


The Blind Burglar

by DomesticGoddess



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF!Bilbo, Bilbo can sing, Bilbo's stubborn too, Blind!Bilbo, Dwarven Ones | Soulmates, He's stubborn not an idiot, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rating will change, The Quest, Thorin didn't get lost, protective!Thorin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:41:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 62,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21737755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DomesticGoddess/pseuds/DomesticGoddess
Summary: 'A burglar of great skill.' The wizard said. 'Best in the business.' He said. 'Would decide the fate of their quest.' He said. And here they were in the land of halflings, in the home of a gentle hobbit who looked like he had never worked a hard day in his life. What was that blasted wizard thinking?! And why was the hobbit acting so . . peculiar? Who needed a bloody walking stick in their own home?! And what was up with his . . . wait. Mahal's beard! Was the hobbit really blind?! Thorin was going to have words with a certain wizard.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, One-sided OMC/Bilbo Baggins
Comments: 798
Kudos: 1820





	1. Adventures and Mysterious Hosts

Bilbo sat on his bench enjoying the warmth of the sun and the whispers on the wind as he smoked his pipe. It was a warm, peaceful day. He could hear the bustle down in the market and his neighbor Hamfast at work in his garden while his little ones ran about. 

He could smell the delicious scents of freshly backed breads, pies and various other delectable foods wafting through the Shire as Hobbit lasses busied in their kitchens. The sun was warm on his skin and the breeze a gentle caress through his curls. At times like these, he could easily forget that he had never actually seen the Shire, its colors, or even the brightness of the sun. It was easy to forget when everything felt so familiar. 

He blew a lazy smoke ring, briefly recalling the numerous tries it had taken him to get the mouth shape right, relying only on the spoken guidance of others. Of course, that was one of the easier tasks he had had to learn without his sight. 

He paused in his reminiscing when he began to pick up some strange vibrations in his sensitive feet. Footsteps, obviously, but far to heavy and long for any hobbit. As they got closer, he hummed in recognition. “Gandalf.” He greeted pleasantly as the wizard came to a stop just on the other side of his fence. “What brings you here, my friend?” As if he didn’t already know. Gandalf rarely showed up for any but two reasons: parties and adventures, and there were no parties scheduled anytime soon. 

“Bilbo, my boy! It is good to see you in good health.” The wizard returned. “Keeping those hobbit toes out of trouble, I trust?” His tone was laced with mischief. 

The hobbit huffed in mock indignity. “I am a perfectly respectable hobbit now, I will have you know! My toes are entirely trouble free!”

“What a terrible shame! Perhaps, over a nice cup of tea, I might be able to help you find a solution to your dire situation.” Gandalf returned, a hint of mirth in his voice belying his serious tone.

Bilbo chuckled and knocked the ashes from his pipe. “Very well, I suppose I can spare you a cup of tea, at the least, and perhaps a few biscuits. But don’t think I’m not on to you old man! You and your snake oil cures called adventures!” He opened the gate for the wizard before leading him up to the door.

“Why, Bilbo, I’m quite sure I have no idea what you’re speaking of.” The wizard followed feigning innocence. 

Bilbo just huffed and let him into his smial. Several minutes later, they were seated in the kitchen sipping tea and finishing off the last bit of a carrot cake that Bilbo had forgotten he had. “You know I’m retired, Gandalf.” Bilbo started before the wizard could start his pitch.

“We both know you could never be truly retired, not as long as Took blood runs in your veins.” 

“It has been very difficult earning back the proper Baggins’ reputation, even more so considering my . . condition. I’m not going to drop it and run off without a very good reason.”

“Since when have you cared so much about your ‘proper Baggins’ reputation?’ What happened to the hobbit who craved and searched for adventures?” Gandalf pried.

“Since it nearly cost me everything.” Bilbo scowled, the wizard already knew this. 

“Of course. I’m sorry for your losses, Bilbo, but know I would not seek you out if I did not require someone of your skill.”

“I won’t promise anything, but, go on, what is this important adventure you have for me?” Bilbo sipped at his tea.

“Actually, I was hoping to let your potential employers reveal that for you. You see, I am seeking a final member for their company as they are about to set out on an epic quest.” Gandalf revealed mysteriously.

Bilbo set his cup down with more care than usual. That sounded a lot like- “They’re dwarrow, aren’t they?”

Gandalf made a strange strangled sound as he took another sip of his tea to avoid answering the question. 

Bilbo sighed. “Gandalf, you know how my last . . encounter with dwarrow ended.” Not well, to put it mildly. It was one of the reasons he went into early retirement. 

“These are not like those dwarrow. These dwarrow are honorable. I can personally guarantee your safety among them as I will be joining the quest as much as possible.”

Bilbo ran a hand through his unruly curls. They were always wild, one of the disadvantages of being blind. Though he suspected they would be hard to wrangle even if he could see them. “And what makes you think these dwarrow will even consider hiring a hobbit.” 

“They have given me leave to choose their final member. They will hire you on my recommendation.” Gandalf assured. 

Bilbo shook his head, things were never that simple. They might hire him, but that didn’t mean they would ever accept him. 

“At least hear them out, Bilbo. That is all I ask.” 

Bilbo highly doubted that, but finally nodded. “Fine, when will they be here?”

“Soon.” The wizard said with that same strangled voice.

“They’re already on their way, aren’t they.” Bilbo wasn’t really asking. He knew the old coot too well. 

“Possibly.”

“Today or tomorrow?”

“I would expect them by supper tomorrow.” Gandalf revealed seeing Bilbo’s acceptance of the inevitable. 

“How many?”

“Several.” The Wizard was using that same strangled voice again.

“How many, Gandalf?” Bilbo asked, voice firm with authority.

“Thirteen.” The wizard relented. “Besides myself.” 

Bilbo shook his head. He didn’t know why Gandalf couldn’t just be up front about it all. It’s not like Bilbo couldn’t detect every half truth he tried to get by with. Habit probably. “And lodging?”

“If you would be amendable.”

“Yes, yes, fine. Then I expect you to finish your tea and be gone. I have work to do.”

No sooner had the Wizard finished his tea, Bilbo was shoving him out the door so he could get to work. He would be cooking and cleaning nearly non-stop until tomorrow evening. 

As soon as Gandalf was out the door, Bilbo flew about with a purpose. He fired up his oven and started throwing together a variety of desserts. From pies and cakes to turnovers and biscuits. Amidst cooking and baking he attacked his guest rooms, airing out mattresses and setting out fresh linens. 

It was late when he finally retired from the night and he got up early the next day to get started. His day was a bustle of activity, cooking, baking and cleaning and just making sure everything would be perfect. 

He wasn’t particularly excited about his guests being dwarrow. He knew a thing or two about them and it wasn’t all flattering. But he would present his best regardless, after all, he was a proper Baggins of Bag End now and he it wasn’t truly his style to judge an entire race by the actions of a few anyway.

He made meat and potato dishes galore and even whipped up a few veggie dishes which he cleverly disguised with cheese. By the time he was done, every surface in his kitchen was overflowing with succulent dishes and he still had some time to get cleaned up. 

He took a quick bath and picked out his nicest clothes for the occasion. He stepped over to his staff rack, running his hands over his collection of walking sticks. He didn’t usually need to use one around his own smial, but, with a smial full of dwarrow, he had a feeling it would be beneficial to have one. 

He picked out on of his favorites. A solid oak one, simple in its intricately carved form. It was carved and stained to look like an old branch straight off the tree, or so he was told, but the texture was sanded smooth to the touch. His mother had gifted it to him shortly before she passed. It was also one of his strongest, all the better for knocking hard Dwarven skulls with. 

He decided to bypass the dark spectacles he had had made. He knew his eyes bothered other people, but he would rather simply keep his eyes closed than have to wear the bothersome accessory. Besides, these were dwarrow, they weren’t as squeamish as hobbits. Though he did have to wonder if they were aware he was blind. Knowing Gandalf, he doubted it.

He ran his hands over his clothes and through his hair before sighing. It was the best he could do. He just hoped he looked as presentable as he thought he did. Just as he was stepping out of his room, a knock reverberated through the hall. Well, that would be his guests.

He padded silently to the door, pausing to let his feet absorb any vibrations coming from the other side. He lifted a brow when he only detected a single set of heavy, booted feet. Another knock startled him from his wondering and he opened the door. “May I help you?” 

_~The Company~_

Dwalin looked down at the halfling only briefly before offering a short bow. “Dwalin, at yer service.”

“Bilbo Baggins at yours.” The halfling replied with a short bow, his eyes kept low. “Please come in.”

Dwalin stepped in as the halfling stepped aside and closed the door behind him. “Where is it?” He asked gruffly before the door had even clicked shut. He was starving and the wizard had promised food. Good food and lots of it.

“Where is what?” The halfling asked confused.

“The food.” He knew it was here. The house was filled with delicious smells. He figured he could find it himself and started to follow his nose. He only made it one step when he heard a dull thump and promptly ran into what looked like a walking stick. He turned to the halfling holding his stick pressed against the wall and blocking his way to the food. 

“Boots off, please. Coats go there and weapons over there, if you don’t mind.” Master Baggins gestured with his stick while maintaining a serene smile, his head tilted slightly down. “And then I will show you to the food.”

Dwalin raised a brow at the halfling’s boldness and looked him over more carefully. He was just a wee thing, not even four feet. He looked soft and clearly well to do in his well fitting, expensive clothing. Attractive even, in an exotic kinda way, and stronger than he looked judging by the force he was just putting on that staff. And he seemed to keep his eyes closed for some reason, perhaps he was more nervous about confronting the dwarf than he looked. Still, Dwalin was impressed. “Alright.” He finally answered and moved to do as he was told. 

He watched the halfling as he was led to the kitchen where his attention was immediately arrested by the sheer amount and quality of the food on offer. He was staring with wide eyes when Master Baggins spoke up again. “The plates are over there. Help yourself. I’m sure you’re hungry. There’s ale in the dining room. Enjoy your dinner. There’s a washroom down the hall, should you need it. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Dwalin didn’t need to be told twice. He immediately found a plate and started filling it up with as much as it would fit. Another knock sounded through the house and, when Dwalin looked up, the halfling was gone.

~~~~~

Balin turned back to the door just as it opened to reveal a small hobbit. “Balin, at yer service.” He sketched a bow politely. 

“Bilbo Baggins at yours. Please come in.” The hobbit let him in. “Boots off please and you may set your coat and things here and here.”

Balin raised a brow but nodded and obliged. 

“One of your number has already arrived, I believe. I will show you to him when you're ready.” Master Baggins offered as Balin relieved himself of his burdens.

“Aye.” Balin examined the hobbit out of corner of his eye as he set his things aside. He was clearly a wealthy individual, accustomed to luxurious living. Hardly looked like burglar material. And the way he carried himself was . . strange. 

Master Baggins was patiently waiting for him, both hands resting on the handle of his walking stick in front of him and head tilted downward just enough to prevent a full view of his face.

Balin stepped forward and the hobbit immediately turned to lead him down the hall. He stopped at an open archway and gestured into the room for Balin to proceed. “Please help yourself. If you desire anything, simply ask.”

Balin’s wide eyes landed on the plethora of food before him. “This is quite the generous feast, Master Baggins.”

“I hope it's to your liking. Your companion in in the dining room, just through there, nursing the ale already, no doubt.” Master Baggins gestured to another open archway.

“Aye. Thank ye, Master Baggins, ye have a wonderful home and yer hospitality is impeccable.” Balin praised. There was something about this hobbit, he just couldn’t put his finger on it, but, as long as he was being openly generous with his resources, there was no reason to offer anything but respect.

“Thank you, Master Balin. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to make you more comfortable.” Master Baggins responded politely with a small smile.

Balin turned back from his observations of the food to give his thanks once more only to find that the hobbit was gone. He shrugged and filled himself a plate before making his way to the dining room where his brother was already stuffing his face. “Brother!” He greeted warmly.

“Brother!” Dwalin responded, parting from his food long enough to crash their skulls together. The traded greetings as Balin poured himself some ale and sat down next to his brother. 

**“What do ye think of the halfling?”** Dwalin asked without preamble in their own tongue. 

Balin was surprised by his brother’s question. Dwalin typically only took note of those that could be potential threats. **”He is different than I expected. Less squeamish, more open to strangers then what I have heard of halflings. Why? What has he done to warrant your attention, dear brother.”**

**“There’s something off about him. He wields that stick like a weapon, carries himself with confidence, but looks like he’s never worked a day in his life.” Dwalin grunted before chugging down some more ale.**

**“Confidence, you say? Yet he keeps his head lowered as if in submission.”**

**”Eyes closed too.”** Dwalin added.

 **”Closed?”** Balin hadn’t noticed that. That was odd. He couldn’t possibly be . . . No, that’s not possible. Gandalf promised to find them a burglar of great skill.

Balin started into his own meal just as there was another dual knock at the door. “Sounds like the princes have arrived. Someone should go make sure they mind there manners.” He gave his brother an expectant look.

~~~~~

“Fili!” 

“And Kili!”

“At your service!” They bowed in unison before popping back up to eye the strange little halfling. They had never met one before. Seen some from a distance, but never actually met one face to face. He was a lot cuter than they expected. Soft and weak, sure, but cute too.

The halfling sketched a short bow in return, a small smirk on his lips before letting them in.

“What a lovely home you have. Mr. Boggins.” Fili said remembering his manners and starting to remove the majority of his hidden weapons.

“It’s Baggins. And your weapons go over there.”

“Yes! Very lovely burrow.” Kili added as the two bustled around the halfling. “Mind if I clean my boots off? They’re a bit muddy.” 

He had his leg lifted just about to scrape his boot off on a nice wooden box that looked perfect for scraping boots on when something collided with his foot just above his heel, knocking his foot into the air. Caught off guard, he lost his balance toppling over backwards with a yelp, landing flat on his back and eyes wide in surprise and confusion.

“No, you may not. You may remove them and set them over there.” The halfling motioned with his stick, the same one that he had just knocked Kili on his arse with. "And it's called a smial."

He turned to the blonde who was still gaping in disbelief. “And I told you that weapons go over there. I’ll not have them scattered about. If you can’t tend to them properly, then I’ll pitch them outside.” He threatened with an even voice.

A throat cleared from down the hall. Kili jumped up off the floor as he and his brother both turned to face the other dwarf. “Is there a problem?” Dwalin asked with his arms crossed over his chest. He scowled at the boys and their obvious lack of manners.

“No problems here, Master Dwalin. Merely laying down some ground rules for these youngsters here.” The hobbit replied in his usual calm tone and demeanor.

The boys hurried to do as Master Baggins had instructed under the constant glare of the old guard, muttering apologies when Dwalin sent them a warning glare. “Trouble makers, they can be. I’ll take ‘em off yer hands.” Dwalin finally said as way of an apology before ushering the boys to the kitchen.

“As you please.” The hobbit responded lightly. “The young ones usually are.” He waved them on.

As soon as they were out of sight, Dwalin grabbed the boys by the collars. **”What happened?”** He growled.

 **”I thought halflings were supposed to be timid and weak?!”** Kili gushed in disbelief.

 **”He’s certainly a feisty one. Makes him even cuter, don’tcha think?”** Fili winked teasingly at his brother. Kili had received the brunt of the halflings scolding. 

**“What did ye do?”** Dwalin growled more insistently. 

**“Kili forgot his manners.”** Fili was quick to accuse.

 **“I did not!”** Kili defended. **“I thought that’s what the box was for! Why else would it be sitting there!”**

 **“Ye offended our host!”** Dwalin scolded. **“Ye best hope we don’t lose our burglar because of ye! Thorin’ll send ye right back to yer mother!”**

 **“No!”** They both gasped. **“It’s fine! He was fine! Look, he’s fine!”** Kili gestured.

Sure enough, the hobbit was standing by the doorway. He wasn’t facing them directly, but rather seemed to have an ear focused on them. 

_Mahal, how is he so quiet?_ Dwalin thought to himself.

“Is everything all right?” Master Baggins asked mildly. “Is the food not to your liking?”

“No, it looks delicious!” Kili piped up quickly, eager to earn back favor. 

“Apologies. Just settin’ the boys right. They’ll not bother ye again.” Dwalin answered. Better to be honest than suspicious. 

Master Baggins chuckled softly. “Oh, I highly doubt that. But it’s alright. Thank you for your consideration.” He bowed his head slightly before slipping back out of the room, never once lifting his eyes to them.

“Something feels a bit . . off . . about him. What do you think, Kee?” 

“He’s definitely stronger than he looks.” Kili pouted rubbing at his tender bottom. “Why won’t he look at us?” He continued with a spark of curiosity that was sure to grow.

“What do you know about him, Dwalin?” Fili nudged the big guard.

“Not much.” Dwalin grunted as he stared at where the hobbit had slipped away. There was certainly a lot more to this hobbit than meets the eye and he was going to figure out what it was. “Get yer plates! Mine’s gettin' cold.” He pushed them towards the food and the strange halfling was forgotten in favor of a bountiful hot meal.


	2. Quiet Hobbits and Loud Dwarrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~~🎉🎉💖😄Happy Holidays!😄💖🎉🎉~~~  
> Please accept this bundle of updates as my gift to you and have a wonderful holiday season!!
> 
> Be sure not to miss any of these updates!  
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“Made fools of yerselves already, have ye?” Balin asked knowingly as the princes settled at the table with their plates.

“Only Kili.” Fili quickly responded. 

“It wasn’t my fault!” Kili defended. “How was I supposed to know what the box was for?!”

Balin sighed. **”At least tell me you were able to minimize the damage.”** He directed at his brother. 

**“Yeah. He didn’t seem too offended anyway.”** Dwalin replied. 

**”Good. The wizard has nothing but high praises for his skill. We can’t afford to scare him off. We need all the help we can get. I do not anticipate good news from the rest of our kin.”**

“I don’t think you need to worry about that.” Fili chuckled softly. “Yeah. He seems to hold his own pretty well.” Kili rubbed his bottom.

“Oh?” Balin raised a curious brow at them. 

“He knocked Kili right on his arse!” Fili gushed, leaning over the table to whisper loudly. “It was hilarious! You shoulda seen it!”

“You got scolded too!” Kili reminded. “He threatened to throw all your weapons outside!”

“At least I wasn’t on the floor when it happened.” 

“Really?!” Balin sounded intrigued. “Pray tell, how did he manage such a feat. It’s not easy to knock a dwarf of his feet.”

“He used his stick. Knocked Kee’s foot clear into the air.” Fili happily supplied. 

“His walking stick?” Balin asked skeptically. 

“It’s not a walking stick. It’s a bloody weapon.” Kili grumbled into his food. “Mahal’s anvil! This is amazing!” He exclaimed, shoving another forkful into his quickly filling mouth.

“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.” A voice startled all four of them. Master Baggins set down a few extra mugs of ale on the table. “I thought I would remind you that the washroom is down the hall. I also have guest rooms prepared for everyone for the night. Whenever your ready, I’ll show you to them.” He informed serenely, showing no indication that he had overheard what they were talking about. 

“How do you do that?!” Kili exclaimed after choking down his mouthful. 

“Do what?” The hobbit tilted his head in question, his eyes only barely open.

“Sneak around like that!”

“I assure you I was doing no such thing. Perhaps you were simply too distracted to notice my presence.” He gave them a crooked smile and retreated back into the kitchen.

“Did you hear ‘im?” Fili immediately asked Dwalin. The old warrior never let down his guard. 

“No.” Dwalin replied, looking disturbed by his own admission.

“He is a _burglar_.” Balin commented after a thoughtful silence. “I suppose it shouldn’t be such a surprise that he can get about unnoticed.” He speculated.

“Yeah, but . . at this rate, he could rob us blind and we wouldn’t even know it happened.” Fili surmised. 

“Then I suppose it’s a good thing we’re the one’s looking to hire him.” Balin agreed. 

“But he looks so . . . soft!” Kili sounded baffled. “And cute.” Fili added. “Yeah, he is pretty cute . . . But why are his eyes always closed? How does he even know where he’s going?” “And what’s with the stick? He doesn’t seem to like weapons in the house, so it can’t really be that.”

 **“Maybe it’s only our weapons he doesn’t like in the house.”** Dwalin growled suspiciously. 

**“Easy brother. He has offered us nothing but hospitality. We've no ground to accuse him of otherwise . . despite his . . unique qualities.”** Balin cautioned. 

Dwalin grunted in begrudging compliance and turned his attention back to the food in front of him. They ate in silence for a while before a rough, heavy knock echoed through the hall. Fili happened to look up towards the hall just as the hobbit drifted by the archway silently. 

“Mahal!” Fili startled. “He’s like a bloody ghost!”

“Did he scare you, Fee?” Kili teased with a laugh. 

“Shut up, Kee! Ya just don’t hear ‘im coming!” 

_~Bilbo~_

He stopped at the front door, letting his feet absorb the quake of chaos that was just outside his door. So many! All at once? And practically all on top of each other as best as he could tell. He could barely feel the individual vibrations, the collection merging into one overwhelming wave of signals. 

He took a deep breath to steady himself. He hoped it wasn’t a sign as to how loud they would be, though he knew better. He took another deep breath. He just needed to focus. It wasn’t his first encounter with a pack of dwarrow, but it had been a long time and he’d been proactively avoiding loud crowds for a while now. Focus. He needed to relax and focus . . . and open the door before they broke it.

He took one more steadying breath before grabbing the door and turning the nob, immediately stepping out of the way. A mountain of dwarrow crashed into his home, tumbling and rolling all over each other as they tried to untangle themselves from the pile. He shook his head. Dwarrow were all the same.

He stepped back to give them space to separate and reorient themselves and he heard Gandalf chuckle somewhere behind them. Bilbo sighed. The wizard deserved the title ‘disturber of the peace.’ He was a disturber of Bilbo’s peace, anyway. 

He waited patiently as the dwarrow untangled themselves until he felt their footsteps start to wander. He couldn’t have that. He slammed the base of his walking stick into the floor twice, the hard wood producing a booming thud as it collided with the equally solid floor. The sound echoed through the smial and everything else went quiet. 

“Not another step.” He ordered. “Until your boots are off and your weapons are set aside. You can hang your coats there.” He gestured with his staff. “Master Baggins, at your service.” He sketched a small bow. “I’ll be happy to show you to the food _after_ your things are taken care of.”

Other than the sound of shuffling, the entryway remained quiet. He knew they were sizing him up, deciding if he was worth minding. “If you can’t respect the rules of my home than you are welcome to feast on weeds and sleep in the garden tonight.” He slipped a cold, hard undertone into his otherwise accommodating voice. He wouldn’t be pushed around this time and certainly not in his own home. 

Someone burst out into laughter. “Ain’t ya a tough one! Never seen a hobbit with steel in ‘is spine!” Bilbo heard his boots hit the floor with hollow thuds and a few weapons hit the table. “Name’s Bofur! At your service!” The air whooshed as he gave a dramatic bow. “You’re a cute one, Master Baggins!”

Bilbo could practically here the wink in the dwarf’s voice and he blushed slightly at the tone before shaking it off. What was with these dwarrow thinking him ‘cute’? He didn’t know what he looked like specifically, but he doubted he was that attractive. He wasn’t exactly fending off admirers. 

The rest of the dwarrow followed Bofur’s example and divested themselves of their boots and weapons. “Master Bofur. The kitchen is that way. Please help yourself.” He gestured toward the kitchen. “If the rest of you could introduce yourselves before heading into the kitchen. I like to know who I’m scolding before it becomes necessary.”

Bofur and several others laughed and he doubted they realized how serious he was being. “This is me brother Bombur and me cousin Bifur.” Bofur introduced. 

“I’d prefer it if they introduced themselves, if you don’t mind. It’s easier for me that way.” He did his best not to sound offensive but he really did need to match voices to names. There were so many, he would never keep them all straight otherwise. 

“Oh. Alright!” Bofur complied easily enough, sounding more surprised and curious than anything. 

After that, each on of them made sure to introduce themselves personally, offering polite bows as they did. He greeted each one in turn and welcomed them into his home. Finally, when the last one ambled into the kitchen, he let out a sigh. He had gotten through it well enough. He should be fine if he can keep a reign on them and maintain some order. 

He scowled up at where he knew the wizard was standing, abandoning his efforts to hide his eyes. He kind of hoped the wizard would be disturbed by them. “You are a troublemaker.” He accused. 

“My dear boy, I have no idea what you’re talking about. You seem to have them well in hand.” Gandalf’s voice reflected his amusement.

Bilbo shook his head. “For now, but I know how difficult it is to contain dwarrow. You best hope they behave themselves. I’ll be holding you personally responsible if they don’t.”

Gandalf chuckled. “I assure you the only misbehavior these dwarrow may be guilty of is the devouring of too much food and the excessiveness of volume.”

Bilbo rubbed at his temples. It was the latter he was most concerned about. He wasn’t accustomed to so much stimulation anymore. “Where is the last one?” He sighed in resignation.

“Last one?” The Wizard asked curiously.

“You said there were thirteen. I only counted twelve.” Bilbo sighed. Daft wizard couldn’t even keep track of his own dwarrow.

“Oh? Who arrived before us?”

“Balin, Dwalin, Fili and Kili.” Bilbo named off, wondering if Gandalf even knew all of their names himself. 

“Hmm. It seems we are missing our leader.” Gandalf surmised. 

“The leader?”

“He had a meeting with his kin before coming here. Perhaps the meeting ran a bit later than he anticipated. I’m sure he’ll be here soon enough.” Gandalf patted his curls as he walked by.

“Gandalf.” Bilbo ground out through gritted teeth. 

“Hmm?”

“You’re shoes.” He turned in place to face the wizard once again, his tone carrying a warning. 

“Surely, you wouldn’t divest an old man of his shoes.” Gandalf tried to wheedle. 

Bilbo raised an unimpressed brow. 

“Oh, fine!”

“The staff too.” Bilbo reminded as he walked past, reveling in his victory. He ignored the wizard’s grumbling and headed to the kitchen weaving through the throng of hungry dwarrow and accepting the praises and gratitude being sent his way. If the missing member was the leader, then he had better set some food aside for him or this lot would devour everything and not leave him even a dinner roll. 

He made a large plate and hid it away in his pantry, doing his best to ignore the cacophony that was a pack of dwarrow. He felt his focus slipping and had to quickly retreat farther into his smial to regain his bearings. 

He sat locked in his study for some time, trying to tune out the distant thrum of activity while simultaneously trying to monitor it. It didn’t help much at all, but after enjoying some solitude he felt refortified enough to tackle the swarm again. 

He drifted silent as a wraith back into to dining room, easing up next to Gandalf where he sat in a big folk sized chair. “Is he still not here yet? Could he have gotten lost? Perhaps I should send someone out to look for him.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s not necessary. I gave him a map, after all. I’m sure he can manage just fine.”

Bilbo raised a dubious brow. Just then a sturdy knock sounded at the door and the dwarves fell silent.

“See! I told you he’d make it here just fine.” Gandalf got up and headed to the door. Bilbo trailed behind him. He’d be more miffed about the wizard answering his door if he wasn’t already running out of energy to deal with all the nonsense.

Bilbo kept his eyes aimed low as Gandalf opened the door and welcomed in the dwarf. He heaved a quiet sigh and straightened his back, preparing himself. 

“Gandalf.” The dwarf greeted. “I was . . . delayed.”

The deep voice washed over Bilbo and ignited his sensitive nerves with pleasure. He tensed up defensively, his breaths coming short and fast. He had always been more drawn to certain voices, but this dwarf’s was just perfect! Those deep rumbling tones caressed like silk on bare skin. A shiver ran down his spine as a fresh wave of the delightful sound hit him as the dwarf conversed with Gandalf. Oh, Sweet Yavanna have mercy! He was going to need it.

_~Thorin~_

He was skeptical at best when Tharkun had informed him he knew of a hobbit burglar who would be perfect for their quest. A _hobbit_? Really? What would a hobbit burgle besides root crops? 

But the wizard was convinced so Thorin went along with it. The halfling would probably turn them away at the door anyway, halflings weren’t know for welcoming outsiders, and he’d get out of having to drag along dead weight. 

Needless to say, he was already unimpressed when he stepped into the Shire, the simple little people skittering away at the mere sight of him. Such a pathetic race. It was a wonder they hadn’t been conquered and enslaved already, if only for their fertile lands. 

With the added disgruntlement of his kin’s refusal to aid in the retaking of Erebor, well, he was already in a rather sour mood. Maybe it wasn’t as much the halflings' skittishness as it was his scowl that sent them fleeing. Still, their timidness only served to annoy him more. 

So it didn’t exactly . . . improve his temperament when he entered Hobbiton and felt a tug on his very soul like he had never experienced before. He had stopped in his tracks, speechless, at what was undeniably the other half of his soul reaching out to his own. 

At first he was ecstatic! He had given up ever finding his One decades ago, believing them to be lost when the dragon attacked their home. But as he forced his feet to continue down the road, taking him deeper into the Hobbit town, a realization slowly dawned on him. Why was his One here, in the center of hobbit territory?

His excitement gradually morphed into disgust as he worked through the answers to his own questions. Dwarrow didn’t live in the Shire. They passed through, but that meant if his One was a dwarf, he would be at the inn this late in the evening. He passed by the local inn, felling nothing from it and his mood darkened. 

He had met everyone from the company and had felt nothing from any of them. So it couldn’t be them. Was his One truly a hobbit?! A _hobbit_?! He was a king! Future king under the mountain once the expelled that vile worm from his ancestors halls! Bound to a hobbit?! One of these timid, simpletons?! No! Absolutely not! He would ignore the pull and make sure no one ever found out!

He insistently refused the call as it drew nearer with every step until it was near unbearably close. Despite himself, he felt a heart-aching longing to run to it, to unite with his other half, but he willed his feet to stay on their path and he continued past it. 

He didn’t know how long he walked, so focused on denying the cravings of his own soul he had completely forgotten his intended destination. Eventually the pull seemed to lesson and he heaved a sigh of relief. He could overcome it. But, just as he celebrated his victory, a crushing wave of disorienting pain hit him, knocking the breath right out of him. 

He staggered, grabbing a fence post for balance. He only had to suffer a few moments of the crippling anguish to realize that rejection was not a practical option. Almost as soon as he resigned to go back, the pain lifted significantly and he breathed freely again. 

So he couldn’t completely cut off his One, but that didn’t mean he had to pursue anything intimate. He supposed it wouldn’t be so bad to . . befriend a halfling. After all, he couldn’t be too bad if he was the other half of Thorin’s own soul, right? And, on the flip side, if Thorin couldn’t stand him he wouldn’t be motivated into pursuing anything more anyway. He could acknowledge his One in a purely platonic way. That could work, right?

He heaved a sigh and let his feet follow his soul. Despite his reluctance, the mere intent to seek out his other half made him feel lighter and improved his mood in spite of his disappointment. He quickly found himself wondering what his One was like. Was he timid and sheepish like all the others? Would he even let him in, hear him out? Did hobbits even have Ones? Would he feel the pull as well?

He doubled back in half the time it took him to drag himself away, his legs far more enthusiastic to head towards the pull, and he soon found himself standing in front of the home that housed his other half. He just stood out on the road and stared for some time, the desires of his soul warring with the logic of his mind.

He only remembered as an after thought that he actually had somewhere he was supposed to be. He pulled out his map, using the dim light streaming from his One’s home to peer at it. He growled in frustration and crushed the uselessness parchment. A map-maker the wizard was not. The scribbles and lines could be some ancient language for all Thorin could translate it. 

Well, perhaps his One would know where his company were staying for the night. It would give him an excuse to knock on their door at least. He glanced around and spotted a mailbox. He stepped over to it, trying to read the name on it in the dim lighting. 

‘Bag End.’ He read, thanks to his light sensitive dwarven eyes. Dwarrow didn’t have the sharpest of hearing, but they had exceptional night vision, the better to navigate dark tunnels. ‘Bag End.’ Why did that sound familiar?

He uncrumpled his map and peered at the little dot that marked his destination. ‘Bag End’ was messily scrawled right next to it. Bag End, the home of one Master Baggins, burglar extraordinaire, lucky number and fourteenth member of the company of Thorin Oakenshield. He stared at the mailbox.

What were the odds?! Master Baggins? Their burglar? Already a member of their company? Was his One?! He turned his stare towards the front door. He wasn’t one to put much stock in fate, but this was a little ridiculous! He slowly folded and put away his map as he came to terms with the realization that his One was already a member of his company. 

He wouldn’t have to meet him and leave now. He’d have time to get to know him . . Not that he really wanted to. He was still just a halfling. A burglar halfling? Was it safe to assume he was . . different than other halflings then?

He entered the gate and marched up to the door in a trance-like state, stopping to stare at the door. An embarrassing giddiness welled up in him. He was going to meet his One! . . Even if he was just a halfling. It was still . . fulfilling to meet one’s other half, right?

His growing enthusiasm started to annoy him and gave him a reason to be disgruntled again. It was just a hobbit! Hardly a fitting match for a king! He scoffed to himself and worked up his rather superficial disgust to cover his own excitement. It wouldn’t do to appear excited anyway. He had an image to maintain, and, if he was looking to impress, well, that was no one else’s business!

After taking far to long to prepare himself, he finally knocked on the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Thorin meets his One and is thrown for a loop when all his assumptions prove inaccurate but a certain discovery reignites his concerns.


	3. Sassy Greetings and Boisterous Meetings

Thorin slipped out of his coat, letting his nephews take care of it, as he complained about the wizard’s map making skills. He almost claimed to have gotten lost to excuse his lateness, but how pathetic would that sound? He had no reason to believe his One would feel the same pull. He couldn’t afford to embarrass himself. . . Not that he needed to impress a halfling!

He forced his gaze away from where he could feel his One was standing. It wouldn’t do to look to eager. Only when the wizard finally thought to introduce them did he allow his gaze to seek out the hobbit. 

“So this is the hobbit.” He forced as much condescension into his voice as he could to hide his curiosity. He was . . . better than Thorin had anticipated. Small . . and soft as all hobbits were, but his features were nice, almost delicate. What Thorin could see of them anyway, since his One’s head was lowered in deference. He felt he should be satisfied by the gesture, but it only seemed to annoy him. So his One was just like the others, timid and pathetic. 

But he was dressed exceptionally well. Clearly well off and accustomed to a luxurious lifestyle, even more so than Thorin. Perhaps not so unfitting for a king, but an exiled king? What would this hobbit want with a king who had nothing? His mood further darkened as he continued to study his other half. 

He looked weak, even leaning on a walking stick as if he needed the support. His face wasn’t too bad, exotic, but hardly impressive. His most eye-catching quality seemed to be the almost golden ringlets that covered his head. They looked dark now, but he imagined they'd shimmer like polished gold in the sunlight.

Disappointment settled over him. It didn’t seem like keeping the relationship platonic would be a problem, but why was he so disappointed by it?

Master Baggins waited patiently under his criticizing gaze. He sighed inwardly. Disappointment or not, he wouldn’t take his One along on the quest just to lose him. “Have you journeyed much, Master Baggins.” He drawled blandly.

“Some.”

Thorin’s brows furrowed at the vague, short answer. “Can you handle a weapon? Which do you prefer, a sword or an ax?”

“Neither. I find a good stick serves me just fine.” Master Baggins tapped the floor with the one in his hand.

Great. A hobbit who was confident in his skills . . . with a stick. Perhaps it would be better if he were wisely timid instead of foolishly brave. Thorin could already imagine all the trouble he’d get into. He hadn’t signed the contract yet. Maybe Thorin could dissuade him from coming. Better to have a living One far away than a dead one nearby. “Aren’t you supposed to be a burglar? You look more like a grocer to me.” He crossed his arms and sneered down at the halfling.

There was a beat of silence save for a few soft gasps from the dwarrow audience. 

“I-I’m sorry. You’ll have to forgive me. I-I’m a bit confused.” Master Baggins spluttered. “I was sure Gandalf introduced me to a dwarf king, yet all I’ve yet to hear is the braying of an ass.” He ended, his brows furrowed in annoyance and his voice like steel, but his head still tilted towards the floor. 

Thorin’s jaw went slack as he gaped at the small halfling. Had he heard that right? “What did you just say to me?” He asked more in fascination than anger. 

“Hmm? Oh. Well, I was merely pointing out that, if you expect to stay in my home and eat my food, it might behoove you to show some civility rather than demonstrate that you have the manners of a farm animal. It’s just bad hygiene to keep an ass in the house, don’t you think?” Master Baggins gestured about with his stick, his brow quirked in irritation.

“You can’t talk to me like that.” There was no heat in his tone. He was too busy reevaluating everything he had concluded from his initial observations. 

“Why? Because you’re a dwarf king? This is the Shire and _this_ is a hobbit smial.” He twirled his stick in an encompassing gesture. “Which _I_ am the master of. And if I wish to treat an ass like an ass, that’s my prerogative. Be grateful I haven’t sent you to the stables.” He pointed with his stick. 

Thorin caught himself wanting to chuckle and had to force down his growing smile. Well, he still wasn’t sure about his One’s combat skills but at least he had a backbone and made of some dwarrow worthy stuff, at that. He cleared his throat, shaking himself of his unnatural delight in the situation. “You’re right. I apologize.” He dipped his head in acknowledgement. “I thank you for your hospitality.” 

The hobbit hmphed and fiddled with the stick in his hand. “Yes, well, you are a dwarf. I can’t say I was expecting much. I suppose I can find it in me to forgive you.”

“I appreciate it.” He tried to keep the smirk out of his voice. His One was certainly more interesting than he expected. He moved to join the rest of his company, currently staring in various stages of shock and awe, when something pressed into his chest, halting his steps. 

“Boots. Off.” Master Baggins ordered allowing no room for argument, the tip of his stick pressed firmly right above Thorin’s diaphragm.

Thorin followed the tip back to the cane’s owner and raised an impressed brow at the order. He glanced over at his company who were starting to squirm anxiously. They were all bootless. He thought to send an even quicker glance at the wizard. He wasn't wearing shoes either! A small smirk finally escaped him. Truly, his other half was more formidable than he thought. “Alright. No need to get stick happy.” He gently pushed the cane away.

The hobbit let it drop and tapped it against the floor with a huff. He waited as Thorin unbuckled and slipped off his boots. “Happy?”

“No. Weapons go over there.” He gestured with his cane.

Thorin raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think you’re pushing it a bit?” He wondered. The hobbit was all but stripping them bare.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. Were you asking for directions to the stables?” Master Baggins returned deceptively innocently. 

Thorin chuckled softly and started removing his weapons. “You’re a finicky one, aren’t you? I hope you’re not so high maintenance on the road.”

“It’s my home. If I can’t have things the way I like them, then what’s the point of it. And I haven’t actually agreed to go with you yet. I only agreed to hear you out. I suppose Gandalf told you I was already recruited, didn’t he?” Master Baggins dipped his head even lower and tapped the floor with his cane.

Thorin’s amusement immediately faded. “Tharkun!” He growled, turning an accusing glare on the wizard.

“Now, now. I have every confidence that Master Baggins will agree to accompany you once he hears of your quest.” Gandalf tried to appease. 

Master Baggins shook his head, fiddling with the cane in his hands. “We’ll see. Before we get to that, let’s get you fed. Your delightful company didn’t bother to leave you anything, but, fortunately, I had the foresight to set some food aside. Come on.” He waved Thorin along as he turned and headed for the kitchen. 

Thorin sent one last disgruntled glare at the wizard before leveling his sheepish company with an unimpressed stare. They began to disperse under his gaze while his nephews jumped at the chance to commiserate. 

“Wow, Uncle. I didn’t think he’d get you too.” Kili sympathized. 

“At least Uncle didn’t get knocked on his arse.” Fili pointed out teasingly. 

“Shut up, Fee!”

“What is he talking about?” Thorin interrupted their growing spat. 

“He knocked Kee right on his arse when he tried to scrape his boots off on that box there. Used nothing but that stick he did.” Fili more than happily supplied. 

Thorin gave his younger nephew an skeptical glance. Perhaps he needed to continue his spar training. 

“It’s not my fault, Uncle! That stick’s a bloody weapon!”

Thorin rolled his eyes and sighed. They were so prone to exaggeration. They guided him to the dining room where the seat at the head of the table had been abandoned for him. He exchanged quiet greetings with his cousins Balin and Dwalin before taking a seat. The others began settling back around the table. 

Master Baggins returned carrying a dome lidded tray and set it down in front of him. He lifted the lid to reveal several large dishes filled to the brim or piled high with food that smelled beyond amazing. The hobbit might have said something as he left but Thorin as too in awe of the food set before him to properly hear it. 

He had mostly recovered by the time the hobbit returned with a large mug of ale. “Let me know if you need anything.” Master Baggins informed as he set down the mug, 

“Thank you.” Thorin turned to him in near wonderment but was immediately distracted by the new view of his One. Sitting as he was, he had a better view of his face. It was even fairer than he originally thought, his rounded features so exotic in all their delicateness. The only thing Thorin couldn’t see properly was his eyes which were mostly lidded. But he did catch a hint of green under those droopy lids. 

Master Baggins gave him a quick nod of acknowledgement before excusing himself to let him eat. 

Thorin turned to his food, still baffled over what he had seen. Something was . . off about the hobbit’s eyes. They weren’t even open enough to be usable. In fact, he couldn’t remember having seen his eyes even once in their whole exchange, not even a glare. He seemed to always keep his head down and his eyes closed. 

He savored the exquisite food while he puzzled over the mystery that was his One, trying to fit the pieces together. The hobbit never made eye contact, even when he was being sassy and confrontational. Why would he keep them closed? . . Unless he didn't need them? But who would willingly deprive themselves of sight? . . . He choked on a piece of potato when it finally clicked. 

The cane! The hobbit didn’t seem to have any physical ailments that would require walking assistance and yet he wielded it like it was nothing more than an extension of his arm! Maybe it wasn’t a ‘cane’ at all. Could it be? He ignored his nephews inquiring after him and studied the hobbit who was currently wondering around the table and topping off mugs. His eyes never opening. 

“I’m fine.” He mumbled to his nephews when the hobbit started back towards him

“Are you Alright? More ale to wash it down perhaps.” Master Baggins filled his mug back to the brim. 

“Thank you.” Thorin ground out, still studying his other half and not seeing anything to contradict his theory. 

“Don’t mention it.” Master Baggins dismissed and returned his pitcher to the kitchen. 

Thorin didn’t know what to think. Should he be disgusted? Not just a hobbit but a _blind_ hobbit? Wait. Wasn’t he supposed to be a burglar? Had anyone else noticed? Obviously Gandalf had conveniently forgotten to mention it. He wasn’t ready to move on when the others started bringing up the true reason of their gathering. 

“What news from our kin?” Balin prompted once everyone was seated and relatively quiet.

“They refuse to aid us.” He replied almost numbly. He’d already come to terms with that! He had a more relevant crises on his hands right now!

The dwarrow moaned and complained disheartened by the news, but he was too distracted to pay much mind. 

“It matters not!” Gandalf rose his voice over their hum. “For I propose a strategy that will require no more than our current number. And, with the exceptional skills of a particular burglar, I have no doubt it will succeed.” 

“You’re full of Toby, Gandalf.” Master Baggins retorted from where he sat next to the wizard. Thorin’s gaze sought him out once again and, yes, his eyes were still closed. “I’m retired. I haven’t burgled anything but my own silver in years.”

“Say what you like, Bilbo, but your skills are not something that would simply fade away.” Gandalf rebutted. “I assure you this hobbit is the finest burglar you’ll ever not have the pleasure of catching robbing you.” Gandalf smirked at his own joke. 

“Why would you burgle your own silver?” Kili wondered baffled. 

“It has a tendency to wonder.” Bilbo answered, a hint of irritation in his voice.

The princes didn't look any less baffled by his answered. 

Gandalf cleared his throat to regain everyone’s attention. “With the strategy I propose, it will serve us better to have a smaller company as you will be able to move more stealthily.”

“But what about the bloody dragon?!” Gloin belted out. 

“The dragon can be dealt with easily enough once we find a way inside. If we can prove to your kin the mountain can be won, they will ride to your aid. To do that, we only need to get inside and retrieve something to inspire their confidence." 

“That’s why we need a burglar?” Balin deducted. 

“You can’t be bloody serious.” Master Baggins cut off any pending replies. “You want me to burgle a bloody dragon? Have you bloody lost your mind, Gandalf?!“ He jumped to his feet and turned in a little circle for lack of space to pace. 

“I have no doubt in your ability, Bilbo.”

“Ah, but it’s not my ability that is in question, is it? It’s my willingness to go on this bloody quest to face a bloody dragon. For what?! A mountain of shiny metals?! Yes, I’m well aware of the tales of the Lonely Mountain!”

“The mountain is our home. Not merely a vault for gold.” Thorin corrected. 

Bilbo’s hand hit the table right next to him and Thorin slowly turned his gaze to him. The hobbit still wasn’t looking at him. 

“Tell me that this is not about the gold.” Master Baggins ordered. 

“It’s not.”

“Say the words!” The hobbit pressed through gritted teeth.

“It is not about the gold.” Thorin repeated evenly. The hobbit’s ear twitched.

“That still isn’t motivation for me to join this quest, is it?” Master Baggins relented after a few moments. 

“Well, you do owe me, Bilbo.” Gandalf mumbled as if not wanting to mention it. 

The hobbit calmed, twisting his cane in his hands in front of him. “Is that what this is, Gandalf? Are you here to collect your debt?”

“I had hoped not to mention it.”

“I could lose everything.”

“You could have already lost it.”

The hobbit’s face pinched and he bowed his head in thought, still twisting his cane in his hands. “If I do this, my debt is paid.”

“Yes, of course.” Gandalf agreed pleasantly. “Though it was not my intention to coerce you into it.

“Oh, shove it Gandalf. Even if I go willingly, we're even.”

“Of course.” Gandalf chuckled. 

“Fine. I’m not saying no, but I haven’t’ agreed yet either.” The hobbit sighed and sat back down. “So how are we, sorry, how am _I_ supposed to get into this bloody mountain?”

“All the entrances have been sealed. Even if we were able to scale the front gates, the worm would smell us before we even got to the gold chamber.” Dwalin supplied. 

“Yes, and that is where this will come in handy.” Gandalf pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Could you give us a little more light, Bilbo?”

“What? Isn’t there enough?”

“A bit more would be nice. Perhaps if you were to hang the lanterns.”

Thorin looked over when his One didn’t respond. His brows were furrowed and he was twisting his stick in his hands again. 

“Ah.” He eventually responded. “This is a bit . . embarrassing, but I don’t remember where the lantern hooks are in this room. Haven’t really ever had to use them.” He ended quietly. 

“What do ya mean you 'don't remember'?” Fili wondered. “Isn’t that one right there?” He pointed to a hook on the wall. 

“Ah.” The hobbit returned enthusiastically. “I suppose I might as well acquaint myself with it.” He stood up and grabbed the lamp off a nearby table. 

“We can hang a few lamps easily enough. Stop being lazy and assist our host.” Thorin rose to his feet and ordered, embarrassed for his One’s sake. 

Several dwarrow moved to do as they were told and Bofur offered to take the lamp off Master Baggins’ hands. 

“That’s not necessary. I’m quite capable. If you could lead me to the hook though, that would be nice.” He countered. Many of the dwarrow were starting to look confused or suspicious. 

“Uh, sure.” Bofur consented, confused himself. “Right over here.”

“Right here?” The hobbit touched the wall. 

“Uh, yeah, but higher and a bit to the left.” Bofur answered uncertainly. 

Master Baggins ran his hand over the wall, looking for the hook. “Uh. A bit higher there.” Bofur tried to guide.

“Oh for Mahal’s sake! Don’t make the lad grope for it! Hang up the bloody lantern!” Oin stood up and exclaimed. 

“Thank you, Master Oin, but I really can take care of it.” Master Baggins gave up searching the wall. 

“There’s no shame in accepting help, lad.” Oin countered knowingly. “It doesn’t make ye an invalid.”

Master Baggins lifted his stick and started dragging it lightly across the wall. “You’re quite right, Master Oin. And if I needed the assistance, I assure you I would ask for it.” His stick finally caught on the hook. “Ah. There it is. A bit high, isn’t it?” He mumbled to himself. 

“I, uh, think it’s a bit out of yer reach, but I can hang it for ya.” Bofur offered once again. 

“Yes, I’m sure you can.” The hobbit returned distractedly, tapping his staff on the hook a few more times before lowering it. “And so can I.” He hung the lantern on the handle of his cane and slowly began to lift it into the air. 

“Uh, let us do that for you!” “I don’t think that’s a very good idea!” Several tried to dissuade him as the lantern hung precariously over his head, having finally deduced his condition. They braces themselves as the top of his stick reached the hook, anticipating the worst. 

Master Baggins slipped the handle deftly onto the hook, lowering his stick with the lantern successfully hung without a hitch. “See? Perfectly capable.” He tapped his cane of the floor. “Thank you for your help, Bofur. I assume the others have already been hung?” He questioned as he made his way back to his seat.

“You’re bloody blind!!” Dwalin blurted out in disbelief.

“Dwalin!” Balin scolded him for his impoliteness.

“Yes, though not so much bloody as blind. Didn’t Gandalf tell you? Perhaps he conveniently forgot to mention it.” The hobbit aimed more at the wizard. 

“You want us to take a bloody blind halfling on the quest?! Is this a joke or an assassination plot?! He wouldn’t last five seconds against a stray orc! A dragon?!” 

“I assure you his skill is in no way diminished by his lack of sight!” Gandalf argued. “He is essential to this quest!”

“No! He is essential to _your_ strategy!” Thorin argued back and before he knew it the dam had burst and the entire company erupted in outrage and arguments against and a few for the blind hobbit joining their number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Bilbo gives Thorin a fright and its decided that he won't be accompanying them on the quest. But, the decision doesn't sit well with Thorin as his internal struggles continue. Will Thorin allow their prejudices to deprive him of his One's company.


	4. Overwhelmed and Unsatisfied

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this bonus chapter in celebration of 200 followers on my [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/domesticgoddesswriter)! 😁😁

His smial erupted with shouts and hollers as the dwarrow argued and cussed at each other and the wizard. ‘We can’t take a blind hobbit!’ ‘He wouldn’t last five minutes!’ ‘What were you bloody thinking, Gandalf?!’ ‘He’ll just slow is down!’ And other such ridiculous statements were being thrown around as if every one of them had complete forgotten that he was still sitting right there. 

He was blind not deaf . . unfortunately. He rubbed at his temples as the cacophony continued to intensify. Some of the dwarrow were livid that Gandalf intended to bring a blind hobbit. Others, like Kili and Oin, were less skeptical of the idea. Oin because he had more experience with so called ‘handicapped’ individuals and could testify that they could function just as well as ‘regular’ individuals and Kili because, well, because he’d been laid flat on his arse by said blind individual. 

Bilbo stayed clear of the, uh, ‘discussion.’ He wasn’t particularly invested in whatever they decided. If they refused to take him, it just got him out of burgling from a dragon. Besides, he was rather preoccupied at the moment. 

He breathed deep and slow, rocking slightly in his seat. He tried to cover his ears but it didn’t seem to make a difference. It was too much. Too much noise, too many vibrations, too much volume, just too much everything! He’d never handled particularly boisterous gatherings well to begin with but he was sorely out of practice. There was so much stimulation bombarding him all at once and he just couldn’t focus. He could barely even hear his breaths over the still growing bellowing. 

He gripped the edge of his chair, desperate for something grounding, but he was already too overwhelmed. He needed his buzzer. He patted his pockets barely even registering his own actions. Of course he didn’t have it with him. When was the last time he even had to use it? 

He stood up shakily, leaning more heavily on his walking stick then he ever had too. He could feel his consciousness slipping. If he didn’t get away or find his buzzer, he was going to shut down. He shuffled over to a small table in the hall. There was a small bowl on it that he sometimes would keep little things like keys and, occasionally, his buzzer. 

“Enough!!” Gandalf thundered over all the other noise behind him and he startled back into awareness a moment later, catching himself before he collapsed to the floor. He needed to hurry or he wouldn’t wake up before he hit the floor next time. 

“You gave me permission to choose your fourteenth member and I have! Bilbo Baggins is not like any other hobbit or blind individual! His skills are essential to this quest!” The wizard boomed over them, the dwarrow finally growing silent. 

But it was too late. The silence was just as deafening now as the ruckus it followed. He frantically searched the small table with shaky hands, still not finding what he was looking for. He leaned heavily against the table, his equilibrium completely thrown off, dropping his cane to cling to it. 

“Bilbo?” The wizard had stopped whatever rant he was currently on to direct towards him. “Are you all right, my friend?”

He was fighting to stay awake. How embarrassing to pass out in front of so many guests! But he knew he was losing. He needed to reset. He shakily lowered to his knees, hoping to reduce the distance between him and the floor. He had to rely on the table to stay upright as he felt his mind grow dull. 

“Bilbo?”

“You’re too bloody loud.” He managed to slur out before he finally collapsed. 

_~~Thorin~~_

“Bilbo?” Gandalf suddenly stopped and glanced around for the hobbit. Thorin searched around as well. He had been sitting right next to the wizard a moment ago. There was a clatter behind him and he turned to see that it was the hobbit's walking stick hitting the floor. 

Master Baggins didn’t look well. He was all but propped up on a small table and looked terribly pale. He was breathing hard and the next second he was kneeling down next to the table. Thorin took a step toward him, but stopped when Bilbo turned to them, his eyes finally open. 

“You’re too bloody loud.” The hobbit accused, sounding half asleep. For a split second, Thorin had a mind to be indignant but then his hobbit collapsed, sliding off the table and hitting the floor. 

His feet were moving before he even registered the panic. He scooped up his One without even thinking, cradling him close. “Tharkun?!”

“He’ll be all right.” The wizard assured. “Come. We’ll take him to his study to recover. The rest of you stay here.” He ordered. 

“What happened?!” Thorin demanded as he followed Gandalf down a hall that never seemed to end. 

“Bilbo may be blind, but his other senses are particularly sharp, even sharper than an elf’s. He has been known to swoon on occasions when . . . overwhelmed with stimulation.”

“You were ware of this and didn’t inform us?!” He growled making an effort to be more quiet about it.

The wizard shrugged. “I was not aware it was still a concern, but he will be fine.”

Thorin glared at the back of his head. This wasn’t exactly building his confidence in dragging his One out into the wilds to face a dragon. 

“Here we are. Set him down over there. I believe he keeps some smelling salts on hand for just such occasions.” Gandalf waved towards a lounge chair near the hearth and wandered over to rummage through a desk. 

Thorin set down his hobbit gently. At least he was relieved it was nothing serious. He studied his One’s face, relaxed and finally in full view as it was. He gently stroked a smooth hairless cheek with his thumb. His features were even more delicate and fair than he had thought, almost fea-like . 

Thorin was struck by his beauty. How could he have not seen it before. His hobbits skin was near flawless and smooth, youthful even. His hair glimmered faintly in the light and his curls looked like they could have been spun of silk. He pinched a small lock of hair in his fingers marveling as the softness his fingers were almost too calloused to appreciate. If only he could see those eyes again. 

Even as he was still silently wishing, Bilbo’s eyes fluttered and opened lazily. Suddenly, Thorin was staring into a pair of soft green eyes. His breath caught in his throat as unfocused eyes stared back at him. They weren't a dark or bold green but a lighter, but no less bright, peridot green and his eyes seemed to lack any pupil whatsoever, leaving two untainted gems peering out at him. It was certainly no less striking and Thorin found himself ensnared by the still brilliantly colored orbs. 

“Ah! Here it is.” Gandalf mumble behind him and broke him from his daze. He eased away, realizing how closely he’d been staring and blushing slightly. He was surprised the hobbit hadn’t sassed at him for his intrusion. 

“I don’t think we’ll need it. He’s awake.” He stood up and moved away still watching the unresponsive hobbit.

“Hm. His eyes are indeed open, but he doesn’t seem to have recovered yet.” Gandalf popped the cork off a small bottle. “It takes a little more than a fainting to restore his senses.” He waved the bottle in front of Bilbo’s face, not even bothering to put it under his nose. 

Bilbo jerked up with a cough, swatting the air away from his nose as he tried not to gag. He muttered something Thorin didn’t understand. “C-close it!” He ordered with a grunt, holding his nose. 

“Is there anything else you need?” Gandalf chuckled as he closed the bottle. 

Bilbo relaxed back into the chair, still holding his nose. “A buzzer. Ch-check the desk or above the hearth.” He strained out still sounding disoriented. 

Thorin raised a brow, uncertain of what he was looking for, and headed to the hearth while the wizard went back to the desk. “What does it look like?” He wondered digging through a glass bowl filled with little odd and ends.

“S-small. Roundish. H-has a . . pull string.” 

Thorin picked up a small, wooden, almost egg shaped item from the bowl. It had a small ring sticking out the bottom. “Is this it?” He wondered. 

Bilbo held out a hand to receive it. “Yes.” He answered after turning it over in his hand. He grabbed it by the top and bottom and twisted it apart. It popped open to reveal the small inner workings. He pulled the string, and the inside device began to spin rapidly, producing a quiet hum.

Bilbo held it near his face, closing his eyes and focusing on the sound. Gandalf took a seat while they waited, but Thorin remained standing over his hobbit, studying him carefully. Bilbo pulled the string several more times before snapping the device shut with a sigh. He rubbed at his temples tiredly. 

“Better?” Gandalf asked. 

Bilbo only hummed in response. 

“It seems you’re out of practice my friend. Surely you weren’t always so sensitive to rough dwarrow.”

“I told you I’m retired.” Bilbo growled through his teeth. “I don’t even attend the big hobbit parties. I’m not used to such racket anymore.”

“Well, you had better get used to it. We can’t have you swooning every time they get a little rambunctious."

Bilbo groaned into his hands. “Do I have to, Gandalf?” He almost whined. “They don’t even want me to come. Just ask Mister King here. I wasn’t really catching most of what was being said, it was all just noise to me, but I’m pretty sure I heard a royal veto in there somewhere.”

“Thorin has given me permission to choose our last member.” Gandalf sent the king a meaningful look. “And I have chosen you.”

“It’s not your quest, Gandalf. This is _his_ quest, _his_ company, his _bloody mountain_!” Bilbo retorted. “I’ve had enough problems with dwarrow! I’m not joining a company that thinks I’m useless under a king that doesn’t want me there just to pay off a debt I owe to you!” He sighed. “Unless Master Thorin here, personally requests my aid, I won’t be going anywhere.” He scooted off the chair and got to his feet, stopping to rub his head as he listened for a response.

Thorin could give none. He was torn. His One had turned out to be so much more than he expected, beautiful, unique, confident. A big part of him wanted to know more, wanted to be closer. But the more he learned the more the thought of losing his hobbit terrified him. He wanted him close, but he wanted him safe. Unable to reconcile the two urges, he said nothing. 

“There you have it.” Bilbo gestured toward him. “I won’t go where I’m not wanted, Gandalf. I’ll put this noisy lot up for the night, but after that I’m done.” He swayed slightly, still a bit off kilter. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go find my walking stick and make sure the rest of my smial is still intact.” He excused himself and shuffled out, navigating so expertly it was impossible to tell from watching that he was really blind. 

“Now, Bilbo! You can’t simply brush off all responsibility just because a few dwarves underestimate your talents.” The wizard followed after him as he continued to try to persuade him. 

Thorin lingered as they left, not satisfied in the least with the turn of events. He followed out sedately, brooding over the loss of their burglar, his One. This was the best answer, keep the hobbit here where he would be safe and comfortable. He knew it was the best way to protect his One, protect himself, but it grated against him. 

By the time he made it back to the others, Bilbo had found his cane and was bustling around giving instruction to various dwarrow while Gandalf continued to follow him around trying to convince him to change his mind. The company had washed the dishes and cleaned up much of the kitchen and dining room and Bilbo directed them in putting things away properly while he completed the finishing touches of putting things back in order. 

Thorin watched his every move, fascinated with the ease he flitted around with. His stick seemed to be little more than a precaution as he often set it aside when he need both his hands. Even with several dwarrow in his kitchen trying to help, he seemed perfectly capable of navigating around them. 

“I take it we’ve lost our burglar.” Balin sidled up to him. “It’s probably just as well. Burglar or not, the wild’s is no place for a blind hobbit.”

Thorin gave him an annoyed glance. Not that anything Balin said had irritated him. He was right. Everything in his brain was telling him that this was where the hobbit belonged and interfering with it would only cause heartache. But his soul was of a very different opinion and the internal conflict was infuriating. 

Bilbo belonged by his side. Of course that’s where he belonged! He was Thorin’s other half! Neither of them would be complete if separated! They were meant to be together! Created to be One! He could already anticipate the amount of stress and distress leaving his One behind was going to cause him. Would it do the same to Bilbo? Would he ever see him again? It was a dangerous quest to face a dragon. There was no guarantee he would live to return. 

The idea of never seeing his One again only heightened his unease. There had to be a better solution! A compromise! Something!! The more he thought about it the darker his brooding became. When Bilbo started showing everyone to the guest rooms, he retreated to the sitting room. He leaned against the hearth and watched the flames as the war continued to rage inside of him. 

“Well, I think I’ve finally got you all sorted.” Bilbo announced later, snapping Thorin back to reality. 

“Bilbo, if you would just consider-“

“There’s nothing to consider, Gandalf. The only one not content with things as they are is you!” Bilbo snapped back and left the room again. 

Gandalf huffed and threw his hands in the air. “Save me from the narrow mindedness of dwarves and the stubbornness of hobbits! He is essential to your quest and not one of you can see past a minor inconvenience to accept his aid!”

“He's blind, Gandalf. It’s hardly a minor inconvenience.” Balin retorted. The dwarrow had all filed in to the sitting room. Some looked like they were still waiting for their leader to make a call one way or the other. Other’s were simply confident in the decision that had been unofficially decided. 

“You! Are you really so short sighted?!” Gandalf aimed at Thorin’s back. “You need Bilbo for this quest. Are you so willing to give up on everything you are fighting for?!”

“You know not of what you speak.” He growled over his shoulder. This wasn’t just about reclaiming or losing Erebor anymore. This was about reclaiming or losing the other half of his soul! Both were things his heart longed for. Losing either would be devastating, but losing his other half? He didn’t know if he could survive that. 

Nor could he give up his long lost home. Just thinking of those halls from his childhood stirred the longing in his heart. The others didn’t feel it like he did. Most of them hadn't been there when the mountain was lost. But he had watched it burn, had watched his people struggle to survive afterwards. It revived a pain in his heart he could not simple ignore. Much like the longing of his soul. 

Someone started humming and soon several instruments had been pulled out while the dwarrow hummed and sung softly. Other races didn’t give dwarrow credit for much anything besides their greed and crafting skills, but they were far more talented and complex than that. Music was a particularly enjoyed pastime among them, most every dwarf having trained in some sort of instrument. If only he had brought his harp, he could use a distraction. 

But he didn’t so he used what he had. He started humming a relatively new song. One that hadn’t been written until after the fall of Erebor. “Far over the Misty Mountains cold, to dungeons deep and caverns old. We must away, ere break of day, to seek our pale enchanted gold.”

The others joined in around him, their instruments picking up the tune just as quickly. “The pines were roaring in the heights, the wind was moaning in the night. The fire was red, it flaming spread, the trees like torches blazed with light.”

His heart ached as he sung and the longing of his soul intensified, as if reaching out to find solace in its mate. He thought that singing would be a distraction. But all he felt was his longing intensified. “We must away! We must away! We ride before the break of day!” 

As the song came to an end, the others still humming and playing to the tune, he felt something, like a faint tug on his soul. He looked up, knowing exactly where it was coming from. 

Bilbo was standing in the hall, out of sight to most in the sitting room. Thorin had only noticed him from the longing of his soul. He was twisting his stick in his hands, clearly an anxious habit, his head dipped low. But then he lifted his head and Thorin could swear their eyes met. 

Something in him resonated. As if, for that split second, their souls connected. The feeling of completeness, of empathy, comfort, and even sorrow, filled him and left him breathless. But it didn’t last, Bilbo lowered his unseeing eyes once again and the connection vanished, the resounding emptiness as painful as the connection had been soothing. 

Thorin tried to recover without giving himself away as Bilbo turned and walked down the hall. He was sure there had been tears in his hobbit’s eyes. Had he felt it as well? How could Thorin ever go back after knowing such completeness?! After experiencing wonderment that was being united with his One?! He couldn’t. It changed everything. There was no more conflict in his mind. Even if they could never be anything more than friends, he needed his other half. He needed him like air. 

His mind and soul both settled after coming to the realization. He couldn’t even remember what he had been so conflicted about in the first place. This was the right answer. How could anything be expected to function properly if its two halves were separated. A hilt without a sword was useless, a sword without a hilt was dangerous even to its wielder. Yes. This was the right answer. Now, he only had to convince his hobbit to accompany them. 

He waited as the others started to shuffle off to the guest rooms to turn in for the night. Balin and Dwalin each checked on him before being the last to shuffle off. It was just him now. He only hoped his One hadn’t already gone to bed. A throat clearing behind him startled him and he turned to find that that it wasn’t the case after all. 

“I haven’t shown you to a room.” Bilbo said softly, twisting his stick in his hands. “I should do that . . If you’re ready.”

Thorin stepped closer to him. He suddenly had an overwhelming urge to touch but retained enough presence of mind to restrain himself. “I want you to join us.” He blurted out before thinking it through. He winced as he realized he could have been a lot more professional about it.

“What?” Bilbo’s head snapped up, his gem-like, unseeing eyes staring at Thorin. 

“I . . would appreciate . . . any aid you would be willing to provide and would welcome you into our company.” Thorin tried to recover.

“Yes!” Bilbo nearly cut him off before clearing his throat. “I mean . . if you’re asking, then, yes, I would . . . be happy to help.” He twisted his poor cane even harder. 

Satisfaction settled over Thorin. He would get to bring his hobbit with him. “Thank you.” He rumbled, noticing the way his one’s ear twitched. 

“Don’t mention it.” A soft blush blossomed on his hobbit’a face and a new sort of satisfaction filled him. “I’ll, um, I’ll need some time in the morning to . . make arrangements and get ready.” Bilbo continued to fidget. 

“Of course. We will leave once you’re ready.” Thorin allowed. In too good a mood to care about a late start. A smirk of triumph grew on his face as Bilbo continued to fidget nervously. At least, he had some kind of affect on his One. 

“Come. I’ll, uh, I’ll show you to a room.” Bilbo finally waved the dwarf along and started to guide him away. Thorin followed, watching his One’s every move. He would have many more days to get more acquainted with his Hobbit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Thorin wakes up early and gets a chance to learn more about his One before the others wake up and learn that the blind hobbit will be accompanying them anyway.


	5. Morning Talks and First Breakfasts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're all doing okay in the midst of this virus scare. Remember to buy responsibly and practice good hand washing. And, above all, stay calm and read fanfiction! 
> 
> I'm going to be granting you some bonus chapters between regular updates for awhile. It's not permanent but I have a lot of chapters waiting to be posted so I'm gonna spoil you all for a bit. Give you some extra reading material to help distract you from everything going on out there. 😉
> 
> Stay healthy everyone! And Enjoy! 😁😁😁

Despite the peace that had allowed him to fall asleep quickly, Thorin found himself awake before the sun had even begun to rise. The comfortable and well-maintained room that he had been allotted was still pitch black apart from the barest hint of moonlight slipping in between the curtains.. 

He wasn’t sure why he was awake. The bed was certainly more comfortable than most beds he had the privilege to enjoy, luxurious even with its soft blankets and plush mattress. No, it wasn’t because of the bed. 

He had vague memories of uneasy dreams but he couldn’t remember what they were about or if they had been the reason for his awakening. He closed his eyes, determined to at least rest and sucked in a deep breath to sigh out. 

He sniffed again immediately. Did the hobbit's house always smell like food? It made sense for it to the evening before, but surely those scents would have faded and this new scent was entirely different. 

He lay there for a few more seconds thinking before deciding to get up and look around. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had woken up for a reason and, if there was nothing, he would be able to return to bed with his curiosity sated. 

He slipped on his tunic and stepped quietly out into the hall. It too was dark, no candles or lanterns lit, and there was no sign of any stirring dwarrow, only a hum of hidden snorers. He shook his head at the noisy sleepers and padded softly down the hall. 

The house remained dark and still as he passed closed doors and the large sitting room, but a faint glow became noticeable as he neared the dining room. He glanced in, but besides a bunch of dark lumps sitting on the table there was nothing. The glow was coming from the kitchen. 

He moved on, stopping in the door of the kitchen as he tried to decipher what he was seeing. The ovens were all aglow with their barely contained light and seemed to be where the smells were coming from. Surely Master Baggins hadn’t left them lit all night?

“You’re up early.” A voice spoke to him from the dark and made him jump. He huffed in annoyance. He had been so preoccupied with the light of the ovens, he had completely missed the small figure sitting at the kitchen table. 

“I could say the same of you.” He rumbled, taking a cautious step closer. With the light from the ovens, he could see well enough. His One was surrounded by a variety of items, many of which were papers. 

“And you would be wrong.” The hobbit returned quietly. “As it would be more accurate to say I am up late.” He folded the piece of paper he was working on and slipped it into an envelope before getting up and tending to his ovens, pulling out several trays.

“You haven’t slept?” Thorin wondered absently as he tried to discern the nature of the envelope in the increased light. “You will need your sleep on the road.”

“I can take care of myself.” Bilbo returned with clipped words and Thorin redirected his attention to his One. “I had work to do.” He paused. “Besides, I doubt I would have slept well with a bunch of dwarrow in my smial.” He mumbled.

“I said you could have the morning to prepare. You should have said something if we were disturbing you.”

Master Baggins scoffed. “Like you would have listened. I will still need most of the morning. I had things I wanted to get done that I didn’t think you’d care to stick around and wait for.”

Thorin studied his One as Master Baggins cleared off the trays only to fill them back up and slide them back into the ovens. “Like cooking?”

“Baking.” Master Baggins corrected. He slipped off his oven mitts and returned to his spot at the table. “I’m trying to clear out my pantries as much as possible. No point in letting everything spoil while I’m gone.” He wrote something on the envelope and set it aside, straightening the stack of envelopes he’d apparently finished. 

“But why in the dark?” Thorin pulled the bench out and slid onto it. 

There was a beat of silence and Thorin glanced up at him curiously. “I do everything in darkness, Master Thorin. It’s a bit of a side affect of blindness, you see.” 

Thorin would have palmed his own face if he hadn’t been trying to make less of a fool of himself. “Sorry.” He mumbled almost inaudibly. “It’s easy to forget when you’re sitting here writing letters and . . baking. How do you even know what your writing?” Thorin tried to peer onto the page curiously. 

“They’re called words. You don’t need to see to know how to spell. I suppose next you’ll ask me how I can speak.” Master Baggins replied sarcastically. 

“No need to get sassy. Knowing the meaning of letters is different from knowing how to make them. How do you know what the letters look like?” Thorin wondered. He really wasn’t trying to offend. He was just curious. He seriously doubted he could write anything legible without being able to see what he was doing.

“I learned.” Master Baggins replied shortly with a sigh, finishing up the letter and waving it gently to dry the ink before slipping it into an envelope. 

“How?” Thorin pushed, dissatisfied with the answer. 

The hobbit sighed again and lifted his face to him in an annoyed glare, no longer bothering to keep his eyes closed. Thorin’s breath caught in his throat and he had to blink a couple times to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. The hobbit’s eyes were almost . . glowing! Rather, they were reflecting the dim glow from the ovens. It looked like two glimmering jewels peering out of the darkness at him. He swallowed thickly in awe of . . whatever strange phenomenon he was witnessing and cleared his throat. “I’m just curious.” He finally worked up a reply. 

Master Baggins huffed and got up to check the ovens. Thorin waited at the table, suspecting he wasn’t going to get any more answers. 

“People . . like you, people who can see, . . . they . . rely on their eyes more than necessary.” Master Baggins answered haltingly. “People . . people like me, don’t have that option. We learn to rely on our other senses. You’d be surprised how much you can ‘see’ when you can’t see.” He paused. “Sometimes I thinks it’s people like you who are the disabled ones.” He mumbled as he finished setting his rolls on cooling racks so he could refill the trays. 

“That might be a bit extreme.” Thorin returned, not willing to discount what his One was saying completely. It was . . certainly an interesting point of view.

“Is it?” Bilbo replied. “When you wandered to the kitchen just now, did you know I was in here before I spoke to you?” He asked, sounding like he already knew the answer. 

“No.” Thorin admitted. “I was distracted by the-“

“Light?” Bilbo finished for him, wearing a knowing raised brow as he sat back down.

“. . Yes.”

“Because it was what your eyes were drawn to. You ignored everything else.” Master Baggins supplied. 

Thorin hummed thoughtfully as his One set aside his writing things and letters and pulled over several daggers in leather sheaths instead. Master Baggins pulled out a dagger and began sharpening it on a rough piece of leather. 

“I thought you had no skill with weapons?” Thorin asked. The hobbit clearly knew what he was doing. 

“I believe that was your own conclusion.” Master Baggins replied calmly. “Swords and axes are hardly all inclusive. For all you know, I could be a war hammer type of hobbit.”

Thorin snorted at the mental image of the hobbit wielding a hammer bigger than he was. “Are you?” 

“No.” Master Baggins replied, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

“But you can handle a dagger?” Thorin figured it was better than a stick.

“I should hope any seasoned cook or even mild traveler could handle a dagger.” Master Baggins returned unimpressed. “It’s a rather basic tool of survival, is it not.” He finished polishing the blade and slipped it into its sheath before getting up to tend to his ovens again.

“Of course, since you have done ‘some’ traveling.” Thorin replied, still skeptical of the vague term. 

“I have.” The hobbit answered in mild amusement. 

The hobbit continued to bustle about preparing more dough, or whatever he was making, for future trays and bagging up the cooled rolls before moving them to the dining room. Thorin watched him for a few minutes before returning his curious gaze to the leather pouches on the table. They didn’t look like standard traveling gear. 

He glanced up at his hobbit to make sure he wasn’t paying any attention, before casually sliding his arm closer to one of the pouches, slipping his finger under the hook to unlatch it. He lifted it open as quietly as possible. He tilted his head, unable to figure out what they were at first. They were metal, long and narrow with a forked ‘v’ tip. He carefully pulled one out. It looked like a giant needle with the loop broken off.

“It seems your title doesn’t make you above snooping.” Master Baggins commented, still working at the counter.

“What are they?” Thorin wondered instead of denying it. His One didn’t sound too upset.

“Bolts. Why don’t you make yourself useful and make sure none of them have rusted.” Master Baggins bossed. 

Thorin raised an eyebrow at the command but considered it permission to snoop further. He pulled out each bolt and inspected it, trying to discern how they were meant to be used. “These are dwarven made.” He commented, finding a small creator’s marked edges into the ‘y’ end. 

“They are.” Master Baggins finished loading another tray and slipped it into the oven. 

Thorin pulled out each one before replacing them. “They seem to be in pristine condition.” He closed the long pouch. 

“Good. I haven’t used them in . . a while. I had hoped they stored well.”

“What are they for?” Thorin wondered as he set the pouch a side. 

“Oh, I don’t think you'd be interested. After all, it’s not a sword or ax.” Master Baggins snarked. 

“I acknowledge other weapons.” Thorin returned a bit indignantly. 

“It’s not a hammer either.” The hobbit added with a smirk. 

“Fine. Keep your secrets.” Thorin rumbled, he was sure he’d find out eventually. “What’s in this one?” He slid over another thicker pouch. 

Before he could open it, a small hand landed on top of it. “That one is not for nosy dwarrow.” He warned softly and pulled the pouch out of Thorin’s fingers.

“Oh? It must be interesting.” Thorin’s curiosity was only increased by the warning. 

The hobbit huffed and slid it out of Thorin’s reach. “Don’t touch it.”

“Fine. Is there anything else I can help you with?” Thorin returned with some sass of his own.

The hobbit smirked but didn’t answer. He did return a few moments later with a plate of fresh rolls and a jar of jam. “You can eat.”

“Eat? The sun’s barely up.” Thorin grumbled but helped himself to the warm rolls anyway.

“I believe it’s on its way.” Master Baggins corrected, opening the curtains over the kitchen window to let in the early morning rays. “Just in time for first breakfast.”

“First breakfast?” Thorin asked through his mouthful. “How many breakfasts are there?”

“Just two.” Master Baggins answered, a small smirk on his face as he continued to work about the kitchen. 

With Thorin’s mouth occupied, they fell into a comfortable silence. The hobbit had plenty to occupy himself with and, when he wasn’t preparing food, he was clearing the supplies and letters he had off the table.

Thorin’s eyes followed the hobbit around the room as he ate. His One’s movements were so confident and precise it was no wonder most of the company didn’t notice he was blind. And he was unnaturally quiet. The only sounds to be heard from his activities were the squeak of the oven doors and the light tapping of various bowls, trays or utensils being set gently against the counter. 

Despite his agility and ease within his own home, Thorin was still apprehensive about taking him out into the wild. “I think you should still carry a sword.”

“I don’t care much for swords.”

“Then a small ax or something. Something that can actually protect you if you're attacked.” Thorin pushed. He had every intention of keeping his One alive on this quest but it would help if the hobbit made an effort to stay that way. 

“So, you want the blind, inexperienced hobbit to wield a deadly weapon?” Master Baggins challenged. 

Thorin snorted. “I don’t think you’d be much of a threat.” Thought, it was true enough that he might be more dangerous to the company than to their enemies. There had to be something that he could use to defend himself with that wouldn’t end up skewering any of the dwarrow. “There has to be something you can wield.”

“You mean, like a stick?” The hobbit sassed. “I assure you a stick will serve me well enough.”

Thorin hummed. Considering the hobbit’s condition, a stick probably was the safest bet, but it didn’t give Thorin much reassurance. “I suppose.” He reluctantly agreed. 

Master Baggins shook his head and set another plate of rolls down on the table. 

“I’ve had enough. Thank you.” Thorin declined. 

“That’s polite of you, but they aren’t for you.” Master Baggins corrected. 

Thorin looked at him confused before a rough voice spoke up behind him. “Get up early just to hog the food, did ye?” Dwalin stomped in behind him. Thorin hadn’t even heard him coming. 

“Come. Have some first breakfast, Master Dwalin.” Bilbo invited pleasantly, setting the jam jar beside his plate. 

“First breakfast?” Dwalin grunted, taking the seat in front of the plate. “How many are there?!”

“Two, apparently.” Thorin supplied, suppressing his jealousy at his friend receiving the same treatment from his hobbit.

Master Baggins chuckled softly as Dwalin dug in with a grunt and continued about his work, disappearing into the pantries frequently. 

“Why ye up so early?” Dwalin shoved him, prompting Thorin to shove him back.

“I woke up early. Found a hobbit.” He mumbled.

“Aye? And he just couldn’t go back ta sleep after, hm?” Dwalin teased and studied him. **“Ye gettin’ sweet on ‘im?”** He asked barely whispering after the hobbit slipped back into the pantries.

 **“Shut up, idiot.”** Thorin returned irritably. 

“Aye.” Dwalin ignored him, nodding his head in agreement. **”He’s cute. Too bad he’s dead weight. Be nice ta look at on the road. Wonder if he’s ever tumbled with a dwarf?”** He hummed thoughtfully.

 **”You will not touch him!”** Thorin growled lowly, trying not to attract too much of the hobbit’s attention.

Dwalin gave him a curious look. **”Course not. Won’t get the chance. We’re leaving this morning.”**

Thorin rubbed a hand over his face. He forgot the company didn’t know the hobbit would be joining them yet. **”He’s coming with us.”** He mumbled quickly.

 **”What?** Dwalin barked, clearly not believing what he heard.

 **”He’s coming with us.”** Thorin enunciated more clearly.

**”I thought ye told the wizard no?!”**

“Well, I changed my mind.” Thorin returned, sending an apologetic look to the hobbit before realizing he wasn’t going to see it anyway. He sighed. This was going to make things difficult. 

“Why would ye bloody do that?!”

“Good morning.” Balin ambled in just as Bilbo was setting out another plate. “I see ye two are at it early this morning.”

“We're taking the bloody hobbit!” Dwalin blurted out. “No offense.” He offered as Master Baggins slid the jams closer to Balin. “But yer blind.”

The hobbit snorted. “None taken. I’m quite used to it.”

“Really, Dwalin?” Thorin rebuked, disgusted in his One’s stead.

“What?! Ye said it yerself!”

“Is it true that you’ll be joining us?” Balin directed politely at the hobbit instead of bothering with the others as they bickered. 

“Yes. As long as he doesn’t change his mind.” Master Baggins answered. 

“Well, then, if that is our king’s decision, we will see you through the best we can.” Balin assured. 

“Thanks. But I can take care of myself.” Master Baggins returned coldly.

“Of course. I meant no offense.” Balin apologized before sampling his rolls with a pleased hum. “You seem quite capable and your cooking is absolutely remarkable.” He tried to ease. 

Master Baggins huffed as he returned to his baking. He was mixing a bunch of nuts, dried fruit and oats into a bowl. “Thank you, I suppose. I guess it’s good to know you think I’m capable of something.” He mumbled.

Balin cleared his throat and sent his brother and cousin a reproachful look. 

The hobbit continued to go about his business, largely ignoring the growing conversation as more dwarrow trickled in, lured by the smells wafting from his kitchen. He greeted each one was a plate of rolls and jam before returning back to his work. 

Thorin rubbed a hand over his face in frustration. They didn’t need to discuss this again. He had made his decision. They would just have to deal with it. 

Bifur grunted something at the others mid-conversation, gesturing to the hobbit and then his own ax embedded head. “I agree!” Bofur followed up. “The docs thought Bifur wouldn’t even be able ta walk after his little accident, an' now look at ‘im. Sure, he’s still got a few problems but he can fight with the best of us!”

“He’s a dwarf! And not being able to speak Westron is a lot less debilitating than being blind! Master Baggins isn’t going to improve his sight with practice!” Dori argued

“He handles himself pretty well, if you ask me.” Kili put in.

“I doubt the orcs will be so easily disciplined.” Gloin grumbled.

“We can’t afford ta be leadin’ around a blind hobbit! What of we’re attacked?! He can't even run ta safety!!” Dwalin tried to reason, convinced that taking the hobbit would only lead to his death. 

“Keep it down.” Thorin warned. He didn’t want his One to swoon again.

“What? We gettin’ too loud for ye? We botherin’ yer delicate ears, yer highness! It’s his bloody life we’re talkin’ about! He ain’t got no reason to follow us just ta get himself killed!”

“I said, keep it down!” Thorin growled and Dwalin snorted in annoyance. His best friend was gruff and crude at times, but he was a lot softer than people thought. Thorin knew he was just concerned for the hobbit, didn’t want him to die unnecessarily. But Thorin wouldn’t let that happen.

“Um, welcome to the company.” Ori ventured as the hobbit continued to bustle around him. “I p-personally look forward to traveling with you.” He added timidly. “I’d love to learn more about hobbits.”

“Thank you, Ori. That’s very sweet of you.” Master Baggins returned. “I suppose you’ll want to record the information.”

“Yes, of course! If-if that’s all right?”

“I don’t mind, but it means I’ll have to give you some of these back.” The hobbit reached into his waistcoat and pulled out several writing utensils, handing them over to the shy dwarf. 

Ori stared at them confused. “These are mine.”

“Yes, they are. You didn’t think I’d let a bunch of dwarrow stay in my home without collecting a little insurance, do you?” Master Baggins raised a brow. “Though I admit, I almost felt bad lifting them from you. You’re very sweet for a dwarf, you know.”

Ori blushed and gaped and the room fell silent, each dwarf wondering what other kind of insurance the hobbit had collected. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: The company wonder at what Bilbo has lifted off each of them and Nori takes it as a personal challenge. Bilbo treats them to one more hot meal before they leave and Thorin does some snooping.


	6. Family Portraits and Dwarven Contracts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay safe! Stay healthy! Stay sane! And read fanfiction. 💖
> 
> Enjoy some more bonus updates! 😁

“Wait a minute! Are ya suggesting that ya lifted something of each of us?” Nori asked with suspicious, narrowed eyes.

“No. That, Master Nori, is a fact. I don’t need to suggest anything.” The hobbit returned distractedly as he continued to bake. 

“All of us?” Bofur wondered, scratching at his head under his hat.

“Every one of you.”

“What did you take? I haven’t noticed anything missing.” Fili wondered perplexed. 

“That’s for me to know and you to find out. But I will tell you this. Everything I took is valuable, if only to the one I took it from.” He paused turning to face them with his peridot jewel eyes. “I don’t trust dwarrow. The things I took from you will be acting as my insurance. Give me a reason to believe that you won’t sell me out of stab my back when it’s convenient and I’ll give you your things back. Betray me, and you’ll never see them again. Otherwise, I’ll return them when we part ways.” He ended casually and returned to his baking. 

“He’s bluffin’.” Nori called. “I’d have known if he lifted somethin’ off me.”

“You would, would you?” Master Baggins replied blandly. “Technically, your right. I didn’t take any items from you . . not that were yours, anyway. I did take my silver back though.”

Nori’s eyes went wide and he searched himself quickly, narrowing his eyes when he came up empty. 

“I guess you could say I’ve taking your ‘skill’ hostage. I figured, rather than taking anything of yours, it’d be more effective to simply take everything that’s not yours. So, anything you steal from here on out, will become mine.”

“When?” Nori demanded. “I never let my guard down!”

“I guess it’s a good thing I don’t need you to.” The hobbit snarked back.

“So, ya really are a burglar!” Bofur concluded gleefully. It wasn’t everyday that Nori got bested. 

“Of course, he is!” Gandalf boomed over them as he shuffled into the room. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” He took a seat in the man sized chair set for him in the corner of the room.

“Don’t think you’re exempt, old man.” Master Baggins warned as he brought the wizard some rolls. “Your pipe is mine until further notice.”

Gandalf spluttered indignant protests only to huff in annoyance when it was obvious he wouldn’t be getting it back anytime soon.

“So, are we still leaving this morning then?” Kili wondered, still stuffing his face. 

“We’ll leave as soon as Master Baggins is ready.” Thorin answered. “I’ve granted him some time to prepare.”

“I’m mostly done.” Baggins filled in. “I should be able to wrap everything up by second breakfast, so we might as well enjoy one more hot meal before we leave.”

“Second breakfast?” Fili repeated. “How many are there?”

“Two.” Dwalin And Thorin answered in unison.

“Oh.” The princes stared at them curiously. 

“What’s with all the cooking?” Kili wondered, turning his attention back to the hobbit.

“It’s baking.” Baggins sighed. “I’m trying to empty as much from my pantries as possible so nothing goes bad.”

“You still have food?” Fili asked. “I wouldn’t think you’d have any left after the spread you made last night.”

“The food you saw last night, was only a fraction of what my pantries hold.”

“How could you tell? It’s so dark in there. It’s a wonder you can even find anything.” Kili remarked only to grunt when his brother elbowed him. “What?! . . Oh, sorry.”

Baggins only huffed. “Second breakfast is a hot meal. I should be able to use up my sausage, bacon and eggs.”

“What about what you don’t get used up?” Ori wondered innocently. 

“I’ll let my gardener know he can help himself. Now, if you’ve finished your first breakfast, get out of my kitchen so I can work. If any of you get bored or feel like movingly things along faster, you can move the sacks on the dining room table to the hall.” He waved them out with a wooden spoon without even turning around.

The dwarrow obeyed and shuffled out to prepare their own things or mill about curiously. Thorin caught his nephews before they could go exploring and sent them to move the sacks for his One before doing a little exploring of his own. 

He wandered through the halls, not finding much of note until he found a door cracked open. He pushed it open further cautiously. It looked to be some kind of storage room. He crept in, surveying the linen coverd furniture and storage chests.

Dust motes danced in the sun beams that shined through the uncovered windows. He scanned over a pile of books. There seemed to be a variety of subjects, from herbs and medicine to maps and history. He didn’t figure his One did much reading.

He walked slowly as he examined the room, looking for any extra insight into his One. He stopped at an old desk when he spotted what looked like a picture frame. He pulled it out from under the pile of papers it was sticking out from and turned it over.

It was a portrait of a hobbit lass with dark, long curls and a beautiful smile. Her features were fine and delicate, much like his One’s. He pulled out another frame that had been revealed when he took the first and realized there was a decent sized stack of portraits piled up. 

The second was a male hobbit. His face was rounder, more average looking, and his hair a lighter blonde. But it was his eyes that caught Thorin’s attention. He had bright green eyes, darker, but very reminiscent of a certain blind hobbit. Though Baggins’ eyes were a lighter peridot, this hobbit's were more like emerald. 

Thorin held the two portraits next together and concluded he was likely looking at his One’s parents. But why were their pictures gathering dust in a storage room? He set them down and pulled out a couple more. He recognized the first one right away, despite the hobbit depicted being much younger. Peridot gems gazed back unfocused at him as a young Bilbo Baggins posed for his portrait, a small cute, if unsure, smile on his lips.

He took his time admiring it before moving on to the next, which he discovered was even more adorable. He contemplated the chances of succeeding in smuggling a picture or two as he studied a tiny baby Bilbo wrapped snugly in his proud mother’s arms. The little gems that were his eyes even then nearly glowed and Thorin couldn’t help but appreciate the work of whatever artist had captured the unique phenomenon.

The tiny Master Baggins had a tuft of pale golden curls on his head. Thorin smiled softly, touching the picture as if he might feel the softness of those tiny curls but only felt paint on canvas. Again, he wondered why family pictures had been left to gather dust in a storage room.

He set them back down carefully and continued about the room. He didn’t find much else of interest but at least he had found one answer. It appeared his hobbit had been born blind. Some kind of mutation, he guessed, affecting the appearance and, unfortunately, function of his One’s eyes, meaning there was likely no magic or cure that could fix it. 

He sighed in resignation. He hadn’t allowed himself to hope too much that Baggins’ sight could be returned, but he would have spared no effort if there was a chance. He would have given half the gold of Erebor to pay anyone who could heal his One’s eyes. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed.

Smells of cooking meat drifted into the room and he made his way back out, leaving the door slightly ajar the way he’d found it. He wandered back down the hall until he came back to the main living area where a crowd of dwarrow were lingering outside the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” He wondered as he joined them. 

“Master Baggins won’t let us in.” Fili supplied, leaning against the door frame and eyeing the growing piles of food on the table. 

Thorin raised a brow and watched as his hobbit ignored them all and went about frying up bacon and scrambling eggs. The kitchen was saturated with the smells that had drawn him out and the sounds of sizzling meat only added to the hunger they inspired. He could see how it would be very tempting to sneak in and grab a sample. It didn’t seem like their host was doing anything to stop them. 

“What do you mean he won’t let you?” He rumbled skeptically. 

“That spoon’s a weapon, Uncle.” Kili whispered, his hungry eyes never leaving the table.

“What are you talking about?” He huffed at the exaggeration. 

“That spoon there, on the counter by his elbow.” Bofur pointed out. “Already used it twice. Nori’s taking the whole thing as a challenge.” He chuckled.

Thorin raised his brow, giving the miner a skeptical look. If this was a joke, he was sorely missing the punchline. 

Suddenly, Kili started elbowing his brother and every one of them zeroed in on Nori who was sneaking in from the dining room. He threw them a vulgar hand sign in the midst of signaling for them to be quite and continued creeping into the kitchen at a snails pace.

The group held their collective breath as Master Baggins ventured further down the counter and closer to the dwarf. Nori froze until he was sure he hadn’t been noticed and braved another step putting him within reach of the table. He slowly reached out to snatch a sausage of the platter. 

There was a smack followed by a yelp as the handle of the hobbit’s walking stick came down on the offending hand. Nori pulled it back flapping it hard as if to shake the pain out. 

With a thunk, the staff came down again, bonking him over the head and making him curse. “Just because I don’t deal with you right away, doesn’t mean I don’t know what you’re doing. This may be a fun game to you, but bother me again and you won’t be getting any second breakfast.”

Nori let out a string of curses. “How’d ya even know I was here?!”

“I’d make you a list, but I’m busy! Now get out!” Baggins lifted his stick as if to strike again and Nori ducked and dashed out the door, pushing his way through the crowd. Thorin gave him a warning glare as he passed, but couldn’t help a small smirk at his One’s handiwork.

_~~Bilbo~~_

“Dwarrow.” He sighed, setting his staff back down so he could get back to work. They were always pushing boundaries. Good thing he kept his solid oak stick on hand. Of course, a good solid spoon worked too.

He noted some chuckles and less than sympathetic murmuring cycling through his audience and shook his head. Maybe now they would give him some peace. He’d been up all bloody night; he wasn’t really in the mood for their shenanigans. 

They did leave him alone and he finished cooking up his eggs and breakfast meat and used up most of his flour by the time he finished with the pancakes and biscuits. When he finally finished setting out the condiments and pastries and granted permission for the dwarrow to help themselves, you’d think they hadn’t eaten in days. 

They all but tackled his poor kitchen table, fighting for first access. He shook his head and squeezed his way around them. He needed to finish up getting ready.

“Are you not going to eat?” A rumbled stopped him in his tracks and he fought down the responding shiver. 

“I’ve been sampling all night and morning. Cook's privilege. I’ve had plenty.” He answered after composing himself. “I need to finish getting my things together.

"I’ll have these buffoons clean up when their done.”

“If you wish.” He allowed with a permissive nod before escaping. That dwarf was going to be a problem. He still wasn’t sure what had come over him last night, but that song, that voice, had stirred something deep in him. Just thinking about it gave him chills. It was awe inspiring and heartbreaking all at once. 

He closed his bedroom door behind him and leaned his back against it, rubbing a hand over his face. That dwarf was going to be a _big_ problem. He couldn’t let his guard down. He couldn’t get comfortable. They weren’t his friends, no matter how friendly they seemed. This was business. . . He wouldn’t get burned again. He could protect himself this time. 

He pushed off from the door and grabbed his traveling pack, setting it on the bed. He had most everything ready already. He just had to double check everything and grab a few more things. Handkerchiefs and buzzers, smelling salts, traveling robe and clothes, bed roll, survival kit, medicine kit, his weapons, all he needed was to grab the daggers and bolts he’d been cleaning and the letters he’d written and he should be set. Oh! He walked over and dug through his wardrobe, pulling out two more walking sticks. He couldn’t very well go on an adventure without those. 

He slid them into the straps on the pack designed to hold them and picked up the oak staff he’d been using. He ran his hand over the texture. He hated to leave it not knowing if he would make it back. It was by far his favorite, but he didn’t want to risk losing it or breaking it on the road either. Besides, he already had a lot to carry, he didn’t need any extra baggage. 

He set it back into his stick rack and changed into a set of his travel clothes. It felt good to wear them again. He liked his nice, fancy clothes, but there was just something . . freeing about going on an adventure. 

He grabbed a bundle of leather out of his wardrobe, he wouldn’t bother with suiting up his armor until they were on the road, threw his bag over his shoulder and took in one more deep breath through his nose sighing it back out. He was doing this. No point in delaying. He just hoped he’d have something to come back to.

He shut his door behind him and wandered back to the kitchen to grab the rest of his things. Most of the dwarrow were in the dining room enjoying the last pieces of the feast he had prepared for them that morning. Not a single thank you. Dwarrow really were all the same. He shook his head.

He set his bag on the counter and slid his remaining things into their assigned slots, stuffing a couple daggers into his bundle of leather. They were bloody delusional if they thought he was going to travel with them unarmed.

“Master Baggins.” Balin’s voice approached from behind him. “Before we get on the road, I thought we should go over yerr contract as our burglar. Would ye like me to read it for ye?” He offered as other dwarrow began to trickle in to take care of their dishes. 

“That won’t be necessary.” He denied.

“Surely, ye don’t wish to sign it without knowing what it says.” Balin tried to push.

“I don’t need to know what it says because I’m not going to sign it. I don’t sign contracts with dwarrow.” He added darkly.

“If ye don’t sign it, ye’ve no right to a share of the treasure!” Gloin warned. 

“I don’t want your bloody cursed gold.” He answered coldly and grabbed his bag to move it to the hall. 

“Aye, but not just for that. It also guarantees other amenities like funeral arrangements and-“

“I’m not signing it!” He cut Balin off. He would never sign a dwarven contract again. It was just a trap waiting to happen. 

“What’s the problem?” That blasted voice interfered. He could already tell he was developing a love/hate relationship with it. 

“He refuses to sigh the contract!” Gloin accused. 

“If that exempts me from your quest, then I suppose I’ll be staying!”

“What part do you find disagreeable?” That bloody wonderful voice asked accompanied by the shuffling of paper. 

“All of it, apparently. He refuses to even hear it read.” Balin supplies. 

Bilbo could practically feel the dwarf’s studying gaze on him and he tensed. “I don’t need it read because I’m not signing it no matter what it says.”

“The contract is to protect your interests as well as ours. We cannot guarantee favorable treatment if you don’t sign it.” The voice coaxed.

“Right.” Bilbo snorted indignantly. “Cause you dwarrow have to have it agreed to on paper before you’ll do anything considerate for anyone. I don’t suppose it’s occurred to you that you can pay someone for their work without having it explicitly stated and signed in writing?”

“That’s not-.”

“Well, I don’t need anything from you, money, protection, funeral arrangements or otherwise. If I die on this quest, kick my body into a ditch for all I care. I don’t expect anything from you. I can take care of myself.”

There was a uneasy silence before the wizard broke it. “It shouldn’t be a problem. Consider him in my employment if necessary. I will vouch for his skill and trustworthiness.”

“And ye’ll compensate our losses if yer wrong!” Gloin added, not at all pleased with leaving the contract unsigned.

“Yes, yes.” Gandalf patted him on the head, making him growl. “I’m pleased to hear you’ll be joining us, Bilbo. I knew the promise of adventure would stir up the Took in you! How are your preparations coming. You’ve been busy I see.”

“Just about done. I need to settle the smial and make sure it won’t be a pile of ashes when I come back. The kitchen needs cleaned, I’m not leave a mess like that to come home to, and I’m going to need to see if Hamfest will deliver my letters for me.”

Gandalf hummed thoughtfully. “Then we should be able to be on our way before elevensies, I should think. A bit of a late start, but nothing we can’t handle.”

“What’s elevensies?” That infuriating voice wondered. 

“It’s the meal between second breakfast and lunch.” Bilbo set down his pack.

“How many meals do you have?!” Kili wondered perplexed. 

“Hobbit’s enjoy at least seven meals a day, plus snacks in between and the occasional late night nibble.” Gandalf informed cheerfully, since their host didn’t seem in a talkative mood. 

“No way!” Fili marveled. “Where do they put it all?!” Just from the sound of his voice Bilbo could tell the young dwarf was eyeing him for an answer. 

He huffed. “Get the kitchen clean. I’m going to go check my rooms.”

“Do as he says!” The velvety voice ordered and the others shuffled to do as they were told.

Bilbo sped up his steps as he shook the chill out of his spine. He was going to have to be very careful around that dwarf. He could not afford to get tangled up with a dwarf again, physically or otherwise!

He drifted from room to room, checking for any heat giving flames in lanterns or hearths and making sure windows were closed and curtains were drawn. By the time he made full circle, the kitchen was almost cleaned and some of the dwarrow were getting their packs ready and setting them in the hall. 

He jumped in, making sure everything was put in its proper spot. If he took a few extra moments running his fingers over his mother’s tea cups, no one bothered to mention it. He dearly hoped he’d be able to return. He hoped even harder there would be a home to return to.

When everything was clean and put away, he declared them done and ushered them out to their packs. It was time to bid his home goodbye, hopefully not for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Before they can set out, Bilbo gets a surprise visitor and the Dwarrow are shocked by how he's treated. Feeling defensive of his One, Thorin decides follow his hobbit around as he takes care of an errand and learns a little more about him.


	7. Banshees and Good Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep hanging in there! Enjoy! 😁😁

The hall was full of dwarrow as they collected their bags and each grabbed as much of the supplies that Master Baggins had prepared for them as they could. His own pack was suspiciously covered with his cloak save for the two sticks sticking out at every corner. 

Thorin chose not to question it as his One didn’t seem to be in the best of moods, but he still wondered why the hobbit felt the need to cover his pack. He heard Master Baggins sigh and grumble something to himself. A few moments later, there was a knock on the door. 

Every dwarf paused what they were doing to stare between the hobbit and his door. Baggins sighed again and straightened his tunic and ran a hand through his hair, doing nothing to tame it. He walked to the door and opened it just enough to stand in the door way. “Good morning, Lobelia.” He greeted in a strained voice.

There was a loud “humph!” From the other side before a nasally feminine voice responded. “We’ll see! Don’t stand in the door like that! How rude! Move aside!”

“Actually, I was just about to leave for a bit of a walking holiday, so I’d rather you didn’t.” Baggins returned politely.

“Dressed like that?!” The voice made a disgusted sound. “Absolutely not! What have I told you about presenting an appearance of strong Baggins propriety?! My Eru! You look like you belong in some man’s tavern! Obviously, you could use some help with your wardrobe again! That’s why I check up on you, you know! Now, move aside!” She ordered and all but pushed her way in. 

Baggins' eyes were closed and he wore a resigned expression that only revealed a hint of his irritation as he stepped aside to keep from being plowed over. 

“Honestly! It’s a wonder you can even dress yourself at all! How would you survive without me?!” She berated as she forced her way in. 

“Quite comfortably.” He mumbled softly, making her gasp indignantly. Whatever snide comment she intended to respond with died on her tongue when she caught sight of the hall full of dwarrow. She stared at them with wide eyes and Thorin puffed up and crossed his arms, leveling her with a dark glare to make himself more intimidating. He didn’t like the way she was treating his One.

“W-What is the meaning of this?!” She shrieked when she recovered from her shock. “Are you being robbed?! How dare you?! The Thain will hear about this!” She threatened, waving her umbrella at them. Thorin raised an unimpressed brow at her and she swallowed audibly.

“They are not robbers, Lobelia. They are my guests.” Baggins corrected, shutting the door softly. 

She spun on him with a disgusted scoff. “Your guests?! As if anyone would call upon you! What do they want?! Come to steal from you, I’m sure! Taking advantage of your disability! Really?! Must I do everything for you!? Dress you! protect your home! I suppose next I’ll be spoon feeding you like the invalid you really are! I’ve warned your uncle you aren’t fit to take care of yourself.”

Thorin bristled at the insults. How dare she?! “Watch your tongue wench!” He growled. 

“I assure you that I need you for none of those things, Lobelia, as you are certainly not the least bit concerned about protecting any of my interests.” Baggins cut in before Thorin could say anything else. “The only reason you’re here is to find some excuse to get me kicked out of my family home so you and my cousin can inherit it upon whatever time I’m labeled as unfit to take care of myself.”

“How dare you?!” She gasped in outrage. “I come out of the goodness of my heart to make sure you aren’t rotting in your own filth! It’s normal for the disabled to want to do things for themselves but you are delusional if you think you can survive on your own!” She accused, shoving her finger in his face. 

“You volunteered to come ‘check up’ on me about the same time you set your sights on my cousin, nor do you bother to come by often enough to offer any real aid if I needed it. I was perfectly fine before you decided I needed your help and, quite frankly, do much better without your unnecessary interference.” Bilbo countered, keeping a tight reign on his temper.

“So you say as a pack of filthy dwarves are looting your house as we speak!”

“They are leaving only with what I have offered.”

She gasped in disgust. “Are you just handing off Baggins property now?! Your uncle will hear of this blatant disregard for his provision!”

“It is _my_ property, Lobelia. Baggins property! Hardly any concern for a Bracegirdle unless you're looking to get your own grubby fingers on it! He is nothing more than manager of what is rightfully mine, so I have no reason to thank anyone for anything!” He snapped back, losing his patience. She gasped. “Now if you have no further business with me, I would ask you to get out of my smial.” He reigned himself back in.

“How dare you?! The Thain will hear about this!” She screamed at him.

“You’re right, because I will be writing both him and my uncle a formal letter of complaint of your behavior.”

“Ha! You?! Write?! You're even more pathetic than I thought! Poor Bilbo Baggins! Born an invalid and still thinks he can live a normal life! You can pretend to read and write and play around in your study and your kitchen but we all know exactly what you’re capable of! Nothing but being a dead weight and burden on those of us who bother to help you despite your infuriating delusions of being ‘normal!’ Snap out of your fantasy world! You’re blind you ungrateful cripple!” She screamed in his face.

Thorin nearly shook with rage as his One stood there and calmly withstood the verbal beating. If she wasn’t a lass, he would pummel her bloody senseless! But even his own anger didn’t compare to the cold, barely contained fury that poured out of Master Baggins as he slowly opened his eyes to glare at her.

She recoiled at the sight, those peridot gems almost shimmering as they pinned her with their cold, sightless gaze. “Ugh! Disgusting! Close your eyes! Close them you freak!!” He ignored her and she screamed at him to close them again. 

There was a loud slap followed by a gasp. Lobielia stood nearly as shocked as everyone else as Baggins turned his face back to her, rubbing the growing hand print on his cheek.

“I-I told you to close them!” She tried to justify her violence. 

“Get. Out.” Baggins’ voice lowered into a growl, his gem-like eyes still boring into her.

She just stared back, frozen by the dark, eerie stare until someone dropped their pack and broke the spell. She lunged for the door and disappeared without another word.

There were a few moments of silence as everyone absorbed what had just happened. “Are you all right?” Thorin rumbled, breaking it. Lass or not, she was lucky she made it out in one piece. How dare she touch his One?!

“I’m fine!” Baggins hissed, rubbing at his cheek. “Damn, it stings! I hate taking hits!” He grumbled to himself.

“Perhaps Oin can put something on it.” 

“No. I might need the evidence later.” The hobbit grumbled and threw on his pack. “Let’s go! The sooner we get out of Hobbiton the better.” He ushered them out, hurrying them along, and locked up his smial once everyone was out.

“Gandalf went on ahead to prepare our ponies. He said to meet him at the inn.” Thorin informed as the hobbit rejoined them. He now had a third stick beside the two on his back. Thorin wondered why he would need so many. It wouldn’t be hard to replace them.

“Go on ahead, if you want. I need to stop at my neighbor's real quick. I’ll meet you there.”

“I will accompany you. The rest of you head to the inn!” Thorin opted instead. After the way that hobbitess had treated his hobbit, he wasn’t about to leave him unprotected. 

“I’ll be fine on my own.” Baggins assured. “But do as you will.” He huffed a resigned sigh. 

“Go! Get the ponies ready.” Thorin ordered as he started following after his hobbit. There was no need for them all to stand around with so many sacks. The hobbit had prepared a lot of travel food and they weren’t about to leave any of it behind.

The company started heading in the opposite direction and Thorin stretched his steps to catch up with his One. He wanted to ask about the hobbit lass, but between Baggins’ mood and their own lack of a relationship, he didn’t think it would get much of an answer. So he remained silent. He was getting the feeling that his presence alone was annoying the hobbit. 

Baggins swung his stick as he walked, perfectly comfortable out on the road, and they soon came to a fence surrounding a small smial. 

“Master Bilbo!” A series of high voices greeted as several tiny hobbit children dashed through the garden to them. “Hi, Master Bilbo!”

“Hello, lovelies. Is your ma or pa available?” He greeted affectionately. 

“Papa’s outback, but Mama’s in the kitchen! We’ll get them!” They promised before taking off again. 

“I only . . need one of them.” Baggins huffed as they ran out of hearing range. 

Thorin smirked at their energy but was distracted by something pressing into his stomach. He looked down to find his One’s stick slowly increasing pressure. “What?”

“Some space, if you don’t mind. I don’t need you hovering over me.” He grumbled and Thorin took a step back. 

He wasn’t trying to smother the hobbit. He hadn’t even meant to stand that close. It was just an instinctive reaction after seeing his One threatened. But he couldn’t expect Baggins to understand, so he made an effort to give his One more space. 

“Bilbo!” A blonde haired hobbitess claim out, carrying a wee bundle in her arms. “You’re in strange company.” She eyed the dwarf suspiciously. “Is everything all right?”

“Hello, Bell. Everything’s fine. How’s everyone doing?” 

“Oh, we’re doing just fine. Come on in.” She opened the gate for them. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

Baggins stepped in and set his pack down by the gate and Thorin followed. “No, thank you, Bell. I just came to ask Hamfest to take care of some things for me.”

She gasped. “Bilbo! What happened to your face?!”

“Ah.”

Before he could answer another hobbit came running around the hill of the smial. “Master Bilbo! Is that dwarf botherin’ ya?!” He demanded as he came to a stop. “I warn ya, I won’t stand for it.” He threatened with the garden trowel in his hand. 

Thorin merely gazed down at him with an unimpressed brow. 

“He’s fine, Hamfest. Just ignore him. That’s what I’m doing.” Baggins assured and Thorin sent him a sideways glance. 

“Oh, all right. The faunts said you was being followed by a big dwarf. I know ya ain’t real fond of ‘em.” Hamfest cooled down. “Sweet Yavanna! What happened to yer face, Master Bilbo?!” 

“Ah, I . . had a visit from Lobelia this morning.” He rubbed at the bright red hand print on his cheek. She certainly hadn’t held back. 

They both gaped at him. “Lobelia did this?!” Bell gasped. “She hit you?!” Hamfest was equally shocked. “Why?!” Bell demanded. 

Baggins shrugged. “I may have . . suggested that I didn’t need her help and to stop visiting me.”

“And she hit you for it?!” Hamfest pushed. 

“Well, no. She hit me because I wouldn’t close my eyes when she demanded it.” He admitted. 

Bell let out a disgusted sound. “That is it! This is unacceptable! I am writing a formal letter of complaint to the Thain today! Why do you put up with this abuse?! That-that banshee! She has no business treating you like this!”

“Yes, well, I wasn’t ‘putting up’ with it very well today.” He rubbed his cheek again. 

“Ya shouldn’t be puttin’ up with it at all!” Hamfest insisted. “She can’t treat ya like this just because yer blind! You’re still the Baggins Master for Yavanna’s sake!”

“Only in name.” Baggins corrected softly. 

“Name, shname! Even I wouldn’t have ta put up with that and I’m just a gardener!” 

Baggins sighed. “Yes, well, you know my situation. I'm not exactly _allowed_ to be anything more than an invalid. I’ve been trying not to draw too much attention to myself. But, you’re right. I think it’s about time I do something about her.”

“You’re right it’s about time!” Bell agreed. “And we’ll both be sending letters of complaint. Eru, did she think she would just get away with it?!”

“Oh, she’ll probably blame me.” Baggins returned with a resigned sigh. 

“She can’t very well blame you for that hand print on yer face!” Hamfest asserted. 

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Bell asked again, reaching out like she might touch his arm but never closing the distance. “I know how you feel . . about being . . touched.” She added apologetically. “You won’t . . you know . . “ she trailed off. 

“I’m fine, but thank you, Bell. I was braced for it. A little adrenaline helps.” He mumbled. 

“If you’re sure? All right.” She conceded when he nodded. 

“Is that yer pack?” Hamfest pointed out. “Are ya leavin'? Is that why yer dressed like that?”

“Ah, yes. I’m off on a bit of a walking holiday.”

“With a dwarf?” Hamfest asked suspiciously. 

“Thirteen actually.” Baggins mumbled. 

“Thirteen?!” Bell exclaimed looking alarmed. “Are you sure you’re all right?!”

“Yes, I’m fine, Bell. They’ve requested my assistance with something and I’ve agreed.”

She didn’t look convinced, but the babe in her arms started fussing. “Oh, all right.” She cooed at it. “I’m sorry, Bilbo, but I have to go take care of this little one.” She pinched the sleeve of his tunic and he leaned foward slightly. She made a motion of kissing his cheek but didn’t actually touch him. “Be careful.” She warned. 

“Of course.” He agreed with a small smile. “Thank you, Bell.”

There was silence until she disappeared back into the smial. 

As soon as she was gone, Hamfest turned back to them. “I, uh, I’m sure ya know what yer doing, Master Bilbo, but are ya sure this is a good idea?” He asked, sending quick suspicious glances at the dwarf. “Yer last, uh, adventure with dwarfs, didn’t end so well.”

“Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. Gandalf’s come to collect his debt.”

“The wizard?! That daft old man! What happened to helpin’ someone just to help someone?!” Hamfest exclaimed quietly. “Ye won’t tell him I said that though, right?”

“I would never sell you out, Hamfest.” Baggins huffed in amusement. “You and Bell are the only ones in Hobbiton who can stand me.”

“Aw, don’t say it like that, Master Bilbo. I’s grew up with ya. I know ya ain’t what they think ya are. Hobbiton ain’t been fair to ya.”

“Life isn’t fair, Hamfest. I’ve learned to accept it.” Baggins lowered his eyes to the ground, tapping his stick into the earth at his feet. 

Hamfest studied him a moment before glancing up to eye the dwarf as well. “Well, maybe this’ll be good for ya then. Might be nice to get away from all the stuffy hobbit’s around here.” His gaze remained steady on Thorin. If he wasn’t a hobbit, Thorin might think it was a threat. 

“I think it will.” Baggins nodded in agreement. 

“And ya know I’ll take care of anything ya need.” The hobbit’s gaze finally turned back to Baggins. 

“Yes, actually, that’s partly why I’m here.” Baggins bent over and fished his bundle of letters from his pack. “I was hoping you could deliver these for me. There is one for you, as well.” He handed them over. 

“Sure thing! Oh, Yavanna! If I can read them, that is.” He peered at one envelope after the other. 

“Are they . . that bad?” Baggins twisted his stick in his hands. “I thought I was doing well, but I was up all night so my spacing might have been off.”

“On, it’s not the spacing, it’s these letters! I can barely read them!”

“Sorry.” Baggins sounded embarrassed. “I must be out of practice.” He mumbled contritely. 

“What? No way! Yer writing’s beautiful! Never seen a script as pretty as yers! It’s so fancy and sophisticated! Too cultured for a humble gardner like me!”

Baggins huffed. “I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”

“Nope. Don’t see how anyone can believe yer unfit to manage the Baggins’ property with writing like this.”

“Yes, well, they’re not to know it’s my hand writing. I put Bell down as my transcriber again. I hope that’s okay.” 

“Oh, of course! She won’t mind. I’ll probably need her help to read this fancy writing of yers anyway. Is there anything else I can do fer ya?”

“Well, just take care of Bag End for me. The key’s in the letter for you and Bell. Don’t let any banshees haunt my smial while I'm gone if you can help it.”

“Sure thing, Master Bilbo! We’ll keep it up fer ya! Ya won’t even know ya was gone when ya get back.”

“Thank you, Hamfest.” Baggins replied affectionately. “You and Bell really are the only friends I have here. . . . I will miss you and your little ones.” He held out his hand. 

Hamfest took it in his own gently as if the other hobbit were made of fragile porcelain. “We ain’t friends, Master Bilbo. We’re family.” He placed his other hand gently on Baggins’ shoulder and leaned in. 

Baggins leaned in as well and they gently rubbed noses, pausing afterward in an almost intimate embrace. Thorin bristled at the contact and suppressed a growl. “Thank you, Hamfest.” Baggins returned fondly as they pulled apart, the other hobbit returning his hands to himself. 

“Oh, I just try ta return the favor. Ya’ve always been good to us. My faunts never go without thanks to you. That’s more than most gardeners can say, I think.”

“Your faunts are delightful but your work is excellent. I only pay you what you deserve.”

“Aw, go on. Now yer makin’ me blush! Best get movin’ on before I start thinkin’ I’m uppity!” Hamfest shooed them back out the gate.

Baggins chuckled as he slipped his pack back on. “Thank you again, really.”

“Don’t mention it. Just take care of yerself. Get out fast if these dwarf’s give ya any trouble!” He further instructed as they began to walk away. 

“Will do. Take care of Bag End for me!” Baggins waved as the other hobbit agreed. Finally, they were heading back down the road in earnest.

“You seemed very close.” Thorin couldn’t suppress his jealousy enough to prevent himself from commenting. He sent a sideways glance at his One when he didn’t get a reply. Baggins was wearing a somber look and he decided it wasn’t the best time.

They walked to the inn in silence and reached it quickly enough. Baggins’ pace was brisk and confident, easily keeping up with the larger dwarf. When they made it to the inn, the rest of the company was standing around waiting, their ponies already loaded. 

Thorin barked a few orders and threw his own pack up onto his pony as the others jumped to attention. 

“I trust you finished your business.” Gandalf approached their hobbit. 

“Most of it.” Baggins replied. “There is one more thing I’ll need to attend to.”

“Hmm? And what would that be?”

“There he is!” A banshee like shriek pierced the air drawing everyone’s attention. Thorin tensed. If that bloody harpy was coming back for more, she had another thing coming!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Bilbo faces off against some relatives to defend his name and the company finds out he's not entirely well regarded by the hobbits of Hobbiton. They learn a little more about his condition while on the road.


	8. Accusations and Curses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy a couple more bonus chapters! 😁

“There he is!” Lobelia came charging towards them. “He raised his hand to me! Threatened to hit me after everything I’ve done for him! I’ve never seen such ungrateful contempt in all my life!” She sobbed, attracting a crowd, as another hobbit followed close behind her. 

Thorin was tense, ready to take on any challengers of his One’s honor, but Baggins just snorted. “So she brought the limp noodle to defend her honor.” 

“The what?” Thorin asked but his hobbit ignored him. 

Baggins set down his pack and emerged from the company to confront his accusers.

“You!” The hobbit who had followed the lass marched up and pointed at Master Baggins. “How dare you display such violence?! To my own betrothed! Your future kin! I will not stand for it!”

Thorin eased out and took up a threatening stance a few steps behind Master Baggins, the rest of the company joining him to silently support their hobbit who was clearly the one who had been wronged. 

The hobbitess and her accomplice eyed their little display apprehensively, wavering in their resolve.

“Do you have any evidence of this claim?” Baggins asked calmly.

“What? Look at her! She’d frightened and upset! What more evidence do I need?!” The other hobbit rebutted. 

“I see. Then maybe I should start sobbing and carrying on if it would make people more sympathetic to my plight. I do wonder, though, how she would support such claims considering she thinks me incapable of doing much of anything without her help. Perhaps, I asked her to attack herself for me? In which case, she has only herself to blame.”

“Lies!” She shrieked. “You swing that stick around like a weapon! Your arms still work!”

“Yes, but my eyes don’t and, by your own reasoning for persistently ‘assisting’ me, the only way I could actually hit you was if you let me or were even more incompetent than a blind invalid.”

“You surprised me!”

“If that were true, my dear, you would have undeniable evidence that I had beaten you since, as you just said, I beat you with my stick.” He swung it for emphasis. "It would certainly have left a mark."

“You think you’re a real smooth talker, don’t you?! You’ve always hated me! You’ve never appreciated everything I do for you! Well, you aren’t going to get away with this! You’re going to the sheriff! Otho! Grab him!” She ordered. 

The other hobbit hesitated, more put off by the dwarven wall standing behind Master Baggins, but eventually crept closer to grab him. “C-come on. We can straighten this out with the sheriff.” He tried to convince as he reached for their hobbit’s arm.

Thorin was primed to retaliate but before he got the chance, the ‘Otho’ character recoiled and stumbled backwards. 

“If I am to go anywhere, it will be by my own choosing.” Master Baggins ground out in warning, slowly following after the other hobbit who continued to scramble away. There were gasps among the gathered crowd as they too began to shy away as Baggins walked closer. 

“Get-get away from me!” Otho shrieked. “You cursed freak!”

Baggins stopped and the crowed shifted and whispered in unease. Thorin wanted to string the hobbit up by his foot hair.

“What's going on here?!” A voice rose over the crowd. “Move aside!” It ordered as another hobbit pushed and shoved his way through the crowd before finally emerging into the circle.

“Pa!” Otho cried in relief. “He’s gone bloody crazy! He hit Lobelia and threatened me!” He pointed with an accusing finger.

Master Baggins remained calm and silent, his hands resting on the staff in front of him. 

“Bilbo.” The older hobbit greeted. “Is this true?”

“What are you asking him for?! Of course he’s not going to admit it!” Otho protested. 

“Silence!” The older hobbit demanded and Otho quieted sheepishly. “Is it true, Bilbo?” 

“Is it true that I beat your son’s betrothed with my cane and threatened to do him bodily harm.” Baggins paused for a beat. “No, of course not.” He shrugged.

The older hobbit opened his mouth to speak but Master Baggins wasn’t finished. 

“Is it true that Lobelia Bracegirdle forced her way into my home and assaulted me and then proceeded to slander me in public and order your son to drag me off to the sheriff as if I were some criminal?” He paused once more to let that sink in. “Yes, absolutely. And I have thirteen witnesses for the assault in my own home plus a whole crowd of spectators standing around us to testify. . . Oh. And let’s not forget this nice little parting gift she left me.” He turned his cheek to fully display the hand print that had only started to fade from his face.

The older hobbit stepped forward, staring at the hand print in shock.

“Lies! He did that to himself!” Lobelia defended. 

“I think you’ll find it’s not a match for my hand size. . You know, even if I could slap myself hard enough to leave a print.” Baggins retorted sarcastically.

The older hobbit looked apprehensive as he contemplated the accusations. “These are . . claims of significant consequence. Clearly the . . proper channels would be to press charges through the sheriff . . and submit a formal complaint.”

“I intend to.” Master Baggins returned. “To both. And, as Master of the Baggins family I will not simply overlook this humiliation, this dragging of my name through the mud.” He added firmly. “I want Otho removed from the line of inheritance.”

The older hobbit’s eyes widened in alarm. “That seems a bit excessive. He was merely attempting to defend his betrothed’s honor! He may have been mistaken but he was doing what he believed was right!” Master Baggins didn’t respond, but he didn’t look particularly impressed. “Bilbo, please. He’s my son.” The older hobbit leaned closer and whispered. 

“All right.” Baggins relented. “I will grant him the chance to make it right. He will only be stricken from the inheritance if he decides to wed Lobelia Bracegirdle.” She gasped in outrage. “Choosing to marry such an uncultured savage shows a pathetic lack of judgement. If he does so, he proves himself unqualified. As it is, his place in the line of inheritance will be greatly lowered. Unless some great tragedy befalls the Shire again, he will not be inheriting the Master title or anything that comes with it.”

The older hobbit didn’t look at all satisfied. “It is a severe punishment if added to the charges you intend to press.” He hinted. 

“I will drop the charges against him if you agree to support my decision as to the inheritance.” Baggins bargained, driving the other hobbit into a corner.

The older hobbit heaved a resigned sigh. “Very well. I will confirm your decision and no charges will be pressed.”

“Agreed.” Baggins held out his hand and the older hobbit shook it. “I will, however, still be pressing charges against Ms. Bracegirdle.” He warned.

“Of course.” The older hobbit nodded. “Are you . . going somewhere?” He asked noticing Master Baggins’ traveling clothes. 

“Just a walking holiday. Thought I might visit Bree, visit the shops. These dwarrow have been kind enough to offer an escort. I’ll have the letters sent as soon as their written.” 

“I see. Is there anything you wish me to attend to?”

“You’ll be receiving a letter of instruction shortly.” Baggins informed as the crowd began to finally break away. Lobelia had run off sobbing and Otho had chased after her. The world was starting to move on again after getting its full of the little dispute. 

“Bilbo.” The older hobbit called after him as he headed back towards his pack. He stopped and turned, forcing the other hobbit to wade amidst the company of dwarrow to reach him. 

“I know we don’t always see eye to eye.” He began, cautiously easing closer as the dwarrow continued to hover around them. “But I try. I hope you know that.”

Their Master Baggins didn’t seem particularly moved. “I’m sure you do, Uncle.” He returned blandly and turned back towards his pack. 

“Just, be careful, Bilbo.” Uncle Baggins added as his nephew walked away and slunk out from the dwarrow’s midst before marching down the road, presumably after his son. 

“Well now, if that’s taken care of, perhaps we can be on our way.” Gandalf broke the uneasy silence over the company, prompting them to get moving. 

Thorin had questions, lots of questions, but now didn't seem a good time. “Fili! Kili! Give Master Baggins his pony!” He ordered. Maybe the hobbit’s mood would even out once they were out of Hobbiton.

“No, thank you. I don’t ride.”

“You will need a pony. You cannot walk to Erebor.” Thorin pressed. 

“I sure as Yavanna’s green gardens won’t be riding there.” Baggins retorted. 

Thorin was about to insist when he spotted his nephews trotting up behind the hobbit and clearly up to no good. He was curious so he didn’t say anything. They both swooped down to grab him as they trotted past only to shoot back up with yelps and holding their heads after two hollow sounding thuds. 

“I will not be riding a pony.” Master Baggins reiterated as they rubbed their aching heads. He hadn’t seen the whole exchange, with his nephew’s pony blocking the view, but it seemed they both got a stick to the head for their efforts. He chuckled softly to himself. His One was a spitfire, all right. 

“Aw, come on! You can’t walk the whole way!” Kili whined.

“What? It’s good enough for a pony, but not for you?” Baggins challenged as he slipped his pack back on. “I can carry my own weight. Too bad you can’t say the same.” 

The princes spluttered. “Suit yourself, Master Baggins.” Thorin climbed up onto his pony. “Let’s move out!” He would get tired eventually and be forced to accept a pony. Unless he couldn’t ride. In which case, Thorin would be more than happy to share.

Finally, they were on the move. The hobbit maintained a brisk walk to keep up and managed fine on his own feet. He weaved around them as he saw fit as they traveled through Hobbiton, only branching out to walk on the fringe of their group after they left the town and started traveling through the rolling hills of crops.

“Hey! Sure ya don’t want to ride? Ya can ride with me if ya like.” Bofur guided his pony closer to offer. Thorin sent a discreet glare back towards the dwarf. The miner was too friendly. 

“I’m fine, Master Bofur.”

“A’ight, if yer sure? And it’s just Bofur.”

“I’m sure, Bofur. I like to keep my feet on the ground.”

“A’ight.” Before the word had even fully left his mouth, Nori budged in between them with his pony.

“So, yer a Master. That a noble title or somethin’?” He demanded.

“I suppose you can think of it like that.” Master Baggins answered. “The Master title is held by the family heads of the most important families in the Shire.”

“So ye are a noble?” Balin interjected intrigued. 

The hobbit nodded. “I am head of the Baggins family by birth, yes, but just in name.”

“What do ye mean? Are ye not the head?” Balin pushed. 

Master Baggins was silent for a moment. “I was . . deemed unfit for the roles and responsibilities of the title. It was decided I could only keep the title if I appointed a manager to handle my affairs for me.” 

“Cause yer blind?!” Nori asked in disbelief. 

“That was . . a big part of it, yes.” Master Baggins confirmed with a sigh.

“That ain’t right!” Bofur declared. “Just cause ya can’t see doesn’t make ya stupid!”

“Is blindness that uncommon in hobbits?” Balin wondered innocently. 

“It’s not my blindness that bothers them.” Master Baggins answered. “They think I’m cursed.” He added bitterly. 

“Why?!” Kili wondered baffled. 

“Hobbits can be a very superstitious lot and do not take kindly to things that are different.” Gandalf took over. “Bilbo’s is not an ordinary blindness and many believe that he has been rejected by Yavanna. They believe she has cursed his eyes.” 

“What nonsense!” Oin snapped. “Blindness is blindness! Is Yavanna in the habit of cursing hobbits?!”

“You know of my condition then?” Master Baggins wondered.

“Nay. Never seen a case quite like yers. Doesn’t mean it’s a curse! New conditions pop up all the time!” Oin insisted. “Ye hardly seem held back by it!”

“Oh.” The hobbit returned sounding a mixture of resigned and discouraged. 

“Course, I’m just one healer. Have ye had other healers look at ye?” Oin asked, easing his pony a little closer. 

“I’ve had the best.” Baggins nodded.

“And they didn’t have an answer fer ye?”

Baggins scoffed. “They did. I just thought it was nonsense.”

“The skills of elves are not to be taken lightly, Bilbo!” Gandalf chided. “They spared no attempt in finding the answers you seek.”

“I know. I didn’t say I wasn’t grateful.” Baggins grumbled. “I just didn’t care for the answer they came up with.”

“It was a perfectly valid conclusion.”

“It was hogwash and you know it!” Baggins snapped back. “It’s not like I wanted them fixed. I was just curious. I didn’t need an answer so bad that they had to make one up.”

“Bilbo Baggins!” The wizard spluttered. “Lord Elrond does not ‘make stuff up!’”

Master Baggins made in incredulous face. “Are we talking about the same elf?”

“You’ve gone to the elves?” Thorin interrupted the wizard's spluttering. “They were not able to help you?” As much as he didn’t like elves, even he couldn’t deny their healing expertise. Lord Elrond was often hailed as one of the greatest healers of the age.

“I don’t need ‘help.’” Baggins snapped back. “But, no, he couldn’t give me an explanation as to why my eyes are like this . . Not a good one, anyway.”

“Does it matter?” Fili wondered. 

“Not really. He offered to look at them and I was curious.” Baggins shrugged.

“Sure, sure! Enough about that! If yer a noble, why are ya a burglar?!” Nori redirected to what he clearly thought was the more important question. 

Why not?”

“Why n- Cause ya don’t need anything!”

“So, you didn’t need those sausages this morning. You would have gotten them if you had just waited.”

“That’s different! I have something to prove!”

“Maybe, but that’s not the only reason you did it. You like the challenge.”

“Aye! So?”

“So! So do I. It started out as a hobby. Turned into a career.” Baggins shrugged. 

“So then, why’d ya quit?”

“I retired!” Baggins corrected. 

“Okay.” Nori intoned impatiently. “So why’d ya retire?” 

Baggins was silent for a moment. “It’s personal.”

“What? Ya get caught or something?”

“I said it’s personal. I’ll thank you not to bring it up again.” Master Baggins shut down coldly. 

Nori huffed in irritation, but dropped the subject. 

The company continued to chatter but wisely left the hobbit out of it as his foul mood seemed to have returned. True to his word he managed to keep up on foot just fine as they were only walking the ponies and didn’t make any complaints about the pace or his tired feet.

They made it across the Brandywine just as the sun was setting and Thorin called them to a stop. They would be able to reach Bree the next day so there was no reason to push. The company bustled about to make camp while Master Baggins mostly just stood around.

Thorin kept a surreptitious eye on him, hyper aware of his One’s disability and the problems it could cause. For the same reason, no one bothered to ask the hobbit to do anything and simply worked around him. 

Master Baggins heaved a sigh, setting his pack down. “I’m going for a walk.” He announced and started heading away from their camp. 

“No! Stay close to camp!” Thorin tried to order. 

“I wasn’t asking for permission.” Baggins steps didn’t even slow.

“At least take someone with you!”

“I don’t need a hobbit sitter.” Baggins replied and kept going. 

Thorin cursed under his breath. “Nori!” He whisper yelled, gesturing towards the hobbit when the thief met his eyes. 

Nori smirked and slinked off to follow the hobbit. 

Thorin sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. He might as well recruit the thief to watch after the hobbit for the duration of the quest. It was going to be a full time job keeping track of him.

The camp was quickly set up and a fire going with a pot set over it for a hot supper. They had plenty of meats and veggies that they didn’t normally get to enjoy on the road thanks to Master Baggins’ contributions so they would eat well for a while. 

Bomber was just stirring in the first ingredients when Nori came bursting back into the camp. 

“Nori! Where’s Master Baggins?!” Thorin asked in alarm. 

“I . . I lost ‘im!” He admitted sounding almost pained by it. His pride more wounded than anything, most likely. 

“You what?!” Thorin stomped towards him in a rage. He gave the thief one job!

Nori shuffled back from the intimidating advance. “I don’t know how! He was just . . gone! I swear it! He was right there and then he was gone!”

“You!” Thorin continued his advance, ready to throttle the dwarf. How could they lose the hobbit on their very first night out!

“There a problem?” Master Baggins asked casually as he strolled back into camp.

Thorin spun, staring at his perfectly intact One sauntering in like he hadn’t purposely thrown off his tail. “No more of this! You will take someone with you when you wish to leave the camp!” Thorin demanded again. He couldn’t handle a panic attack every time his hobbit went out of sight. 

“No.” Baggins refused calmly. “I have a right to my privacy.”

“You will do as I say! I am trying to keep you safe!” Thorin ordered, stomping over to impress his will on the halfling. 

“No, I won’t! I don’t need you to keep me safe and I didn’t sign any blasted papers stating that I would obey your orders.” Baggins jabbed him in the chest with his stick, preventing him from coming any closer. “Why don’t you just mind your own business and let me take care of myself?”

Thorin growled and stomped out of camp, muttering a string of curses. Curse the stubbornness of this hobbit! Thorin would have a heart attack before ever making it to the mountain! He marched away from camp to cool his head. 

He returned shortly after getting himself under better control and sent a disgruntled look at the hobbit who was keeping to himself on the outer ring around the fire. They had connected the night before, if only for a moment! Why was he being so difficult now?!

Master Baggins heaved a put upon sigh that was audible over the soft din of chatter, catching more than just Thorin’s attention. 

“What is it, Bilbo?” Gandalf wondered. 

“We have company.” He sighed again, grabbing his stick and keeping it at the ready. 

“What kind of company?!” Thorin demanded, but he was not to receive an answer . . not in words anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: A new character appears and crashes on the company. Thorin is not pleased by the overly friendly visitor.


	9. Invasive Intruders and Annoying Cousins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for voting! Enjoy your bonus chapters! 😁😁
> 
> Warning! OC arrival!! 
> 
> Haha! So, one of my new favorite OC's will be showing up in this chapter. I hope you like him better than Dagan because he shows up in several of my stories. He's actually a consistent character in one of my other works, but he only sticks around for a few chapters in this one. His name and relation to Bilbo are actually canon but everything else is OC. Anyway, I hope you like him.😁🥰

”What are ye talkin’ about?!” Dwalin demanded as he and several others snatched up their weapons. 

Master Baggins didn’t answer. Instead, he rolled onto his feet until he was almost squatting and seemed to be counting down with the fingers of one hand. The dwarrow watched in confusion and anticipation as his fingers ticked off until only one remained. 

“Hah!” Someone shouted as Bilbo rolled to the side as a new body took up the space he had been occupying. “Slippery as ever, I see.” The new figure greeted. “That was pretty slick. Bet ya can’t pull it off twice!” He lunged for Master Baggins again. 

Their hobbit jumped up to escape but was tackled back down before he could get away. “Gah! Get off me, you overgrown buffoon!” He cried as the larger figure wrestled about with him.

“Ow!” The intruder yelped when Baggins’ stick thudded against his head. “Eru! That stick's a bloody menace!” He caught it on the next swing and pinned it to the ground. He chuckled having successfully captured his target. “Now whatcha gonna do?” He grinned down almost nose to nose with their blind hobbit.

Suddenly, the intruder flew into the air as Thorin snatched him off his One. He had had quite enough of that! The hobbit, it was definitely a hobbit, yelped as he was hoisted into the air.

“Don’t hurt him!” Master Baggins ordered. “He’s not an enemy!” He pushed himself up off the ground and dusted himself off. “Just a nuisance.”

Thorin growled but set the hobbit on his feet before looking him over. He was tall and well built for a hobbit. No where near as broad or solid as a dwarf, but a far cry from the soft round hobbits that were so typical. His eyes and hair seemed dark as far as Thorin could tell and he wore a unrepentant, mischievous grin on his well balanced features. He wasn’t nearly as fair and delicate as Master Baggins, more rugged looking, but he was attractive enough in his own right. 

“Who are you and what do you want?” Thorin questioned coldly.

“Name’s Dinodas!” The new hobbit announced. “Heard a hobbit was seen leaving the Shire with a band of dwarves. Only one hobbit I know of silly enough to do something like that! Thought I’d come check it out.” He fixed his leather vest that Thorin had grabbed him by and eyed the dwarf back. “Who are you and what do ya want with Bilbo?”

Thorin raised a brow. It seemed there _were_ some hobbits with backbones. “That’s none of your concern.” He didn’t like how familiar this hobbit was with his One.

“Oh really. Cause I think it is.” Dinodas retorted. “If yer threatening one of my people, it’s kind of my job to do something about it.”

“We’re not threatening anyone!” Kili tried to assure. 

“Back off, Dino.” Baggins muttered, making himself comfortable again. “It’s none of your business.”

“Oh, yeah?” Dinodas turned to him. “If ya think I’m just going to move on and ignore what’s going on here, yer in for a surprise. I thought ya swore of dwarf-handling? What are ya doing with them?” He eyed the company suspiciously. 

“Now, now. There’s no need to be alarmed.” Gandalf intervened. “He is accompanying us on my request and quite by his own will.” He tried to assure. 

Dinodas stared up at the wizard skeptically. “Then I guess ya won’t mind if I stick around for a while!” He declared cheerfully. “Just to make sure, ya know.” He added a little more seriously. 

“Yes, of course.” Gandalf allowed, much to Thorin’s annoyance. He gave the wizard a glare. 

“Great!” The hobbit responded and threw himself down next to Baggins, nearly tackling him all over again. “Hey, Cuz! How ya been?!” He latched on to the increasingly annoyed blind hobbit.

“Get off, you oaf!” Master Baggins demanded as he tried to push the other hobbit’s face away. 

“Oh, Bo! Yer pet names are always so spicy!” Dinodas teased as he pried away the blind hobbit’s stick.

“Shut up, you idiot! They’re insults, not pet names!” 

“Aww! Come on! I missed ya! Ya know I’m yer favorite! Who else do ya let get this close?” Dinodas continued to press against him until Baggins toppled over again. 

“I’m not letting you do anything, you moron!” Bilbo retaliated struggling against the bigger hobbit slowly pinning him down. “Gah! You over-sized Brandybuck! Get off!” He was once again fully pinned despite his efforts. 

Thorin growled, once again ready to physically separate the two. Several of the dwarrow looked concerned but Gandalf only chuckled in amusement. 

“Ya know ya like it.” The bigger hobbit murmured and rubbed noses with his pinned captive.

“Dino.” Baggins intoned with a distinct note of annoyance. 

“Ye-esh!” Dinodas yelped as his mouth was arrested by two thumbs jabbing into his mouth and pressing into his cheeks. “Oooow!”

Master Baggins yanked the hobbit's head to the side by his cheeks, the poor hobbit squawking in pain as Bilbo forced him to roll off before turning the tables and taking a victorious seat on his chest. 

“Ah! Ah! ‘o! ‘Y ‘ace! ‘Y ‘ace!” Dinodas pleaded as Master Baggins kept his thumbs hooked into his cheeks, pulling them apart painfully. He grabbed Bilbo’s wrists, but couldn’t seem to dislodge them without causing himself more pain. 

“Stop. Mauling me.” Master Baggins demanded and Dino nodded quickly in compliance. “And for Yavanna’s sake, show some decency!” He finally released the captive cheeks. 

The dwarrow watched, fascinated by the whole scene as Dinodas rubbed at his sore face. “Ow, Bo! Brutal as ever! . . Eru, that’s hot.”

Baggins climbed off with a annoyed groan and sat back in his spot. 

“Aw! Don’t leave! I don’t mind being on the bottom!”

“Shut up, Dino! Don’t you ever think about anything else?” Baggins retorted in annoyance. 

“Psh. Not when you’re around!” Dino returned shamelessly. 

A deep growl rumbled in Thorin chest. This hobbit needed to learn his place.

“Just shut up.” Bilbo sighed, dropping his head into his hand. 

“Now, ya know that’s not one of my many talents.” Dino nudged him as he sat back down next to him. “Ya never answered my question. What are ya doin’ out here?”

“It’s none of your business.” 

“Yeah, well, ya know that ain’t gonna stop me from askin'.” Dino snagged Bilbo’s pack. “Hey! Ya got any food?” He started digging through it. “Ow.” He responded distractedly when Bilbo bonked him on the head with his stick again, but didn’t stop what he was doing. 

Bilbo smacked him again. “Get out of my pack!”

Dino didn’t even respond the second time. “Bilbo. Why do you have all this?” He asked seriously as he pulled out a series of leather pouches. 

“Stop pulling stuff out! I had it packed the way I wanted, you thick-headed buffoon!”

Dino yanked the cloak off the pack, revealing more things strapped to the outside of the bag including a bundle of leathers and a comically small bow.

“Dino!” Bilbo’s stick came down on his head again but this time Dino caught it. 

“Why do ya have this stuff, Bo?!” He demanded. “Ya swore ya’d never get involved with dwarves again! What are they makin' ya do?!”

“They’re not making me do anything!” Bilbo snapped back and yanked his pack away. 

“Then why are ya leaving with them?!” 

“What difference does it make?! I don’t need a bloody hobbit sitter!” Master Baggins went about putting his pack back together.

“Come off it!” Dino snapped back. “This isn’t about ya being blind! The last time ya went off with a bunch of dwarves, ya almost didn’t make it back in one piece! I think that warrants a little concern on my part! Ya don’t have to be an invalid for me to worry about ya!”

Bilbo paused in his packing and sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He mumbled. 

“Yavanna have mercy! Eru, yer cute when yer contrite!” Dino swooned dramatically, making the princes snicker. 

“And here I thought you were being serious about something for once.” Baggins scoffed. 

“Oh, I was. I’m not happy about this _at all_. But I know ya and I’m smarter than people think, so I know when yer being too stubborn to reason with. So, count me a traveling buddy, Cuz, cause I ain’t leavin’.” 

“Suit yourself.” Baggins sighed, pulling out some wrapped travel bars he'd made and offering them. 

“Aw! Thanks! Ya make this?! Sweet!” Dino wasted no time in devouring them. 

“So,” Kili drew out as he took advantage of the break in conversation. “Friend of yours?” It was obvious he was doing his best to hold back his curiosity. 

“Not really.” Bilbo answered and Dino squawked through his mouthful. “Cousin, actually.” He added, pulling out his pipe.

“Cousin?!” Thorin echoed skeptically. He was awfully handsy for a cousin.

“First cousin.” Bilbo added distractedly as he packed his pipe.

“He comes on pretty hard for a cousin.” Fili commented, his own curiosity getting the better of him. 

“We’re both males. What difference does it make?” Dino returned. “It’s not my fault he’s the prettiest hobbit in the Shire. Puts all the lasses ta shame really.” Bilbo just shook his head skeptically. “He’s always been my favorite little cuz. The first time I saw those eyes, I knew he was special.” He sighed wistfully. 

“You don’t think they’re cursed?” Kili wondered innocently. 

“Who told ya that?” Dino asked with a suddenly dangerous tone.

“Uh . . .” The prince hesitated uncertainly. 

“I had a run in with Lobelia this morning.” Bilbo filled in before taking a long draw from his pipe. 

“And she said 'is eyes were cursed?” Dino directed back at the prince. 

“Well, no. That Otho fellow said he was cursed and then Gandalf explained that that's what the other hobbits think.” Fili aided. 

“Only self important simpletons think that.” Dino spat out angrily. “And the wizard shouldn’t spread such unfounded rumors.”

“I was merely explaining the behavior of the hobbits we encountered this morning. It’s hardly a secret.” Gandalf defended. 

“‘Hobbits’? ‘Otho’? What exactly happened?!” Dino wondered in slight alarm.

“Lobelia saw fit to slander me in the town square this morning.” Bilbo answered blandly. 

“For what?!”

“Assault.”

“Are ya bloody serious?! Why?!” Bilbo just shrugged. 

”Probably to cover the fact that she pushed 'er way into 'is 'ome before berating and slapping him around.” Bofur volunteered. 

“She touched you?!” He turned on Bilbo. 

“It was just a slap. Hardly worth fussing about.”

Dino shook his head. “Oh, no. No, no. She’s gonna pay for that. I’m gonna-“

“Do nothing. I’ve already had Otho all but stricken from the Baggins inheritance, removed completely if he goes through with marrying her. I’ll be pressing charges against her personally.”

“Oh, ya can press all the charges ya want. No one touches my Bo and gets away with it. She’s gonna wish she never set her sights on yer smial.” Dino promised darkly. 

“Oh, and when are you going to do that? You haven’t even visited in over three months. Should you even be here?” Bilbo returned with a hint of bitterness. 

“Aw! I knew ya cared, Bo. Did ya miss me?” Dino grinned and nudged him. 

“Shut up. You didn’t answer my question.” Bilbo grumbled, trying to hide his blush.

Dino laughed and nudged him again. “I’m off duty. Old man left me in charge to take care of some family issues so I’ve been pretty much on call for the past few months. Says I should get used to it anyway since I’ll be takin’ over soon.” He sighed. “Not like he works this hard.” He snatched Bilbo’s pipe and stole a puff. 

“And you just happen to be patrolling around here?” Bilbo continued when Dino handed his pipe back. 

“Nah. Got the report about a hobbit traveling with dwarves. Thought it might be you so I came runnin’ as soon as Pa let me loose.”

“Duty fer what?” Dwalin barged into the conversation. “Didn’t think hobbits had a militia.” 

“We do, actually!” Dino answered enthusiastically. “Most don’t know about them and most who do don’t think they’re actually good for much. Even most hobbits think we’re just for show.”

“Are you?” Thorin asked. This hobbit did look more physically competent than most. 

“We have our specialties.” Dino answered vaguely, stealing Bilbo’s pipe for another puff. 

“Where’s your pack?” Bilbo wondered. “You weren’t patrolling without one?”

“Nah, it’s back there. I know better than to tangle with ya while wearing anything ya can use against me so I hid it before I came ta tackle ya.”

Bilbo shook his head. “And you don’t have any of your own food?”

“Aw! Ya know I like yours better, Bo!” 

Bilbo sighed and handed over a few more bars, ignoring his cousin's triumphant cheer. “Dino’s a bounder. They're a small militia group led by the Tooks and Brandybucks since most of them _are_ Tooks and Brandybucks. Dino’s pa is the master of Buckland and current captain of the bounders. Dino’s going to be inheriting the title soon.” He explained for their dwarven audience. “The bounders are mostly responsible for monitoring Shire borders and dealing with/reporting predators or enemies.”

“So ye can fight?” Dwalin asked intrigued. 

“Sure, if we have ta, but that’s not really how we bounders work.” Dino replied. 

“What do you mean?” Fili pushed. 

“Let’s just say head-on combat is for . . ya bigger folks. We specialize in more . . covert techniques.”

“The bounders specialize in being unseen and unheard. They don’t fight so much as . . eliminate threats from the shadows.” Bilbo added. 

“That’s cowardly!” Gloin accused. 

“Maybe for a dwarf. We’re hobbits.” Dino countered. “We’re not built like mini mountains. We’re good at hiding. We take advantage of our natural skills.”

“So you hide a lot?” Kili asked confused. 

“Yep! Hey, Bo! Have ya tried these out yet?” He pulled the bundle of leathers from Bilbo’s pack. 

“No.” Bilbo answered, somehow knowing what he was talking about. “I was going to wear them tomorrow. Didn’t need to be seen wearing them in Hobbiton.” 

“Eru, they’re so stuffy there! Don’t even think the bounders are competent but still think dressing like one implies 'violent behavior.' Why are ya still living there? Ya wouldn't get near so much harassment if ya moved to Buckland . . . or even Tuckburough! Ma and Pa would be ecstatic to have you. So would Mam and Pap. Why hobbiton?” 

“I’m a Master, Dino. I have to stay in my sector.”

“Only in name.” Dino scoffed. “They’ve already stripped ya of actually doing anythin'! Why not just ditch it and come live with me? Ya know I’d love to have ya. Would share my bed and everything.” He grinned suggestively. 

Bilbo didn’t take the bait, only continued to puff on his pipe in silence. 

“Ya know I didn’t-"

“It’s all I have left of them.” Bilbo interrupted Dino’s apology. The latter’s mirth having faded at his cousin’s solemn attitude. 

“Yeah, I know.” Dino sympathized quietly. “Sorry, Bo. I just hate the way they treat ya over there.”

“I’ve gotten used to it.” Bilbo assured, puffing out one last cloud of smoke before tapping out his pipe. “It does feel good to get out of there though.” He added. “I was starting to go soft.” He smirked softly. 

“I’d be more than happy to help harden you-oof!.” Dino offered suggestively, before a bedroll collided with his face. 

“Go get your pack, you doofus.” Bilbo ordered lightly. “I’m tired.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dino chuckled before hopping up to fetch it. 

“He’s not coming with us.” Thorin put his foot down. One hobbit was bad enough. Having another that was constantly trying to get in his One’s pants was out of the question. 

“You can’t stop him.” Bilbo returned blandly. “He’ll follow even if you forbid him from coming with us.”

Thorin scowled. What was it with these stubbornly rebellious hobbits?!

“It’s only until we reach Bree.” Bilbo added. “I’ll send him back from there.”

“Fine.” Thorin permitted lacking any other choice. He still wasn’t happy about it.

“Hey, hey!” Dino came bounding back with his pack. “Share my bedroll?” He suggested, plopping back down next to Bilbo. 

“No.” 

“Aww.”

“When was the last time that filthy thing was washed? We’ll use mine.”

“Sweet!”

“For sleeping only.”

“Aww!”

“Be useful and go set it up.”

“Yes, Dear.” Dino teased as he did what he was told. 

“So, uh, there’s really nothing between you?” Fili wondered curiously.

“Not like that, no.” Bilbo answered. 

“But, hey! Anything could happen, right!” Dino added optimistically. 

Bilbo shook his head. “He’s always been like this. Even before I could walk, he would tote me around like some pet. Never did learn to keep his hands to himself.”

“What?! Ya were adorable! Yer still adorable! It’s not my fault yer adorable. Why should I keep my hands to myself when presented with something so cute?”

“Because it’s annoying?” Bilbo supplied. 

“Oh c’mon! It’s not like ya get much contact anywhere else.” Dino returned and draped himself over Bilbo’s shoulders.

“Thank Yavanna. Get off. You’re heavy.” Bilbo grunted under his weight. 

Dino chuckled and let him go. “Yer just a light weight. Could still tote ya around like a kitten if I wanted.” He plopped back down with his arm still around Bilbo’s neck, nearly toppling the smaller hobbit over again from the jostling, 

Bilbo made a noise of annoyance. “I don’t need to be an overgrown oaf to hold my own.”

Dino chuckled again and pulled him closer to rest their heads together. “Yeah, I know. Ya don’t need me. Won’t keep me from lookin’ after ya, though.”

Bilbo didn’t reply but settled under the larger hobbit’s hold. Thorin watched in silence as the hobbits fell quiet and a hot supper was passed around. He was doing everything to contain the inferno of jealousy raging in his chest. That was _his_ One. _His_ hobbit. No one else should be touching him so familiarly. Certainly not anyone who's made no secret of wanting to be more than friendly. 

But what burned him the most was he had no grounds to interfere. He hadn’t told anyone what Master Baggins was to him. He doubted Bilbo understood. And this other hobbit was family and actually seemed to care about his One unlike the hobbits in town. 

How he wished he could be so friendly, so familiar with his One. To hold him and support him, wrap around him and protect him from the world. Not that Baggins seemed like he would allow it, but to even just have what this other hobbit had, Thorin would be thrilled. It ached to see someone else in his rightful place.

He scowled harder at the duo. Suffice to say, he was experiencing an unpleasant mixture of emotions. He doubted he would be getting any sleep that night with this strange hobbit around. 

He ate numbly as he brooded until Master Baggins’ voice attracted his attention. 

“Don’t fall asleep on me. You’re heavy.” Bilbo shoved the bigger hobbit who had been leaning against him off. 

“Sorry, Bo.” Dino yawned and stretched. “Been on patrol the past few days. Haven’t slept much.”

“Then go to bed.”

“What? Alone?”

“No. I”m coming to. Was up all night myself.” Bilbo rubbed a hand over his face and tried to suppress a yawn. 

“Well, in that case, let’s hit the sack!” Dino squeezed his leg and got up, heading over to their sleeping roll. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Bilbo murmured before slowly following, 

Bilbo plopped down onto the roll, setting his stick down next to him. Dino dragged over their packs to keep them on hand and slid in behind his cousin before covering them up. 

“Yavanna, ya always smell so good.” Dino murmured as he snuggled up behind Bilbo. 

“Wish I could say the same of you.” Bilbo returned blandly.

Dino just chuckled. “Yeah, well, bein' on patrol for days at a time will do that. Good thing ya’ll still put up with me.” He nuzzled into his hair. 

“I’ve gotten used to it.” Bilbo muttered back, letting Dino wrap around him. His cousin chuckled before they both went still and silent. The rest of the company followed their example, reluctant to disturb their rest and readied for bed. Everyone but Thorin. He would be staying up all night to make sure the annoying hobbit didn’t try anything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Thorin wakes the company up to get an early start, but the hobbits seem to take over the morning when Dino insists on suiting his cousin up in bounder armor. The dwarves get to admire his handiwork. Later, the hobbits decide to stop for an impromptu elevensies.


	10. Bounder Armor and Apple Trees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's another poll going for bonus updates for reaching 300 Ao3 subscribers. Be sure to get your vote in [here](https://domesticgoddesswriter.tumblr.com/post/620529761179123712/300-ao3-subscribers). You can vote by commenting on the post, sending me an ask, or letting me know which two works you'd like to vote for here in the comments.
> 
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Thorin jolted awake. Looking around, he rubbed his face and realized he'd fallen asleep at some point. The sun’s light was just starting to lighten the sky. He pushed up to his feet and stretched. He didn’t know how long he'd been asleep and he needed to go make sure his One’s honor was still intact. 

He nodded to Bifur, who was on final watch and whittling away on a stick, as he tried to quietly approach the pair of hobbits. His brow quirked irritably at what he found. At some point, Dino had rolled onto his back and Bilbo had turned around and claimed his cousin’s shoulder as a pillow. Dino's arm was tucked around him keeping them well and thoroughly cuddled. 

Thorin glared down at them, envy and jealousy simmering in his gut. He wanted to yank the bigger hobbit out of the bedroll completely. 

“Awake!” he barked, getting a petty satisfaction from the way the hobbits startled. “Get up! break camp! We get an early start!” he ordered, taking his frustration out on the company. 

Bilbo pushed up groggily before collapsing back over his cousin in a drowsy stupor. Dino yawned and stretched under him. 

“Morning, Bo,” he greeted, content to wait until Bilbo got up. 

Bilbo murmured something indiscernible and remained draped over his cousin, struggling to stay awake. 

“Never were a morning hobbit.” Dino ruffled his hair affectionately with a soft chuckle.

Thorin quickly filed away that little bit of information for future reference. Imagining luring his One into wakefulness on a lazy morning was almost enough to chase away his foul mood. Until he remembered he had no intention of pursuing anything with the hobbit which brought it back with a vengeance. Perhaps, he would have to rethink his plans for the future.

The camp slowly came alive as the dwarrow woke and got their things together. Bilbo finally pushed himself up groggily, his unseeing eyes unfocused and dazed. Getting up with a chuckle, Dino fetched them both a quick breakfast before getting their packs ready. 

Bilbo scooted off his bedroll and munched on his travel bar as Dino ate and rolled up their bed roll at the same time. Finally, he stood up and stretched with one last yawn before locating his stick. 

“Hey, you should wear these today,” Dino suggested, untying the bundle of leathers off Bilbo's pack. “I never got to see if they fit right.” 

Bilbo nodded in acceptance, his still-not-fully-awake state making him more compliant than usual. He held his hand out to take them. 

“I’ll do it,” Dino insisted, shaking out the largest piece of leather. 

“I can do it myself.”

“I know,” Dino replied. “Indulge me a bit.”

“Isn’t that all I do?” Bilbo griped halfheartedly as he held up his arms to let Dino slip the vest on. 

“Not enough, if you ask me.”

“It would never be enough if you were the judge,” Bilbo muttered as Dino tugged the vest together in the front. It was a rather fancy style for an armor vest. It was designed much like the waistcoats the hobbits liked to wear but made from a moderately thick leather. It attached together at the front with a series of adjustable straps which Dino went about adjusting. 

“Think you gained some weight, Bo,” Dino teased. 

“Shut up. I eat plenty.”

Dino chuckled. “I was serious.”

“Really?” Bilbo hummed. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“It’s good. Mam’s always complaining about ya bein’ too thin.”

“Yes, well, I doubt I’ve gained enough to satisfy her.” He turned at his cousin’s directing so Dino could tighten a strap in the back. 

“There.” Dino patted him. “It’s all sized in. Looks great! You should be good now till ya have to adjust it.

“Thank you,” Bilbo murmured as he straightening out his tunic under the vest. 

Thorin had to admit his One pulled it off well. The new, stylish leather was fitting for his noble status. 

“No problem. Let’s get the rest fitted.” Dino scooped up a couple more pieces. He shook out what looked like a pair of leather vambraces before slipping one onto Bilbo’s offered arm. They were made of lighter leather, being much more flexible, and covered most of the forearm and back of the hand with a strap that wrapped around the thumbs. 

Bilbo stood patiently as Dino fitted them to size. 

“Is that hobbit armor?” Kili wandered over intrigued. 

Dino hummed. “Standard Bounder armor.”

“Really? I didn’t know hobbits had a ‘standard’ armor or any kind of armor for that matter.” Fili joined him. 

“Are you a bounder, Master Boggins?” Kili asked. 

“It’s Baggins. And good heavens no. I’m a gentlehobbit.”

“The gentlest of hobbits,” Dino teased with a grin.

“Shut up.” Bilbo scowled. 

“But you have the armor?” Fili prodded. 

“Dino insisted.”

“I’ve always wanted to get him all suited up like a bounder. This is like a dream come true,” Dino explained.

“I’m only allowing it because it’s practical.” 

“Sure, sure,” Dino chuckled, slipping on the second vambrace. 

The whole company had pretty much stopped what they were doing to watch as Master Baggins underwent a transformation before them. Next, Dino strapped a belt around his waist that had two wide leather flaps, reminiscent of a tasset, that hung on either side to provide limited protection without hindering flexibility or movements. There were leather greaves for his exposed lower legs that very carefully did not interfere with his foot hair. Finally, there was a thick leather collar that attached to the vest to wrap around the neck like a shield

Dino stepped back to admire his work. “Sweet Yavanna. That is hot.”

Thorin was speechless in agreement. Bilbo had every bit the regal bearing fitting for his title. And with his hair shimmering like a golden halo in the early morning sun, it only made him look even more ethereal.

Bilbo shook his head and fidgeted with one of his vambraces. “You’re exaggerating,” he huffed. 

“Not really. You look great,” Fili assured. “It suits you.”

An undeniable blush rose to the hobbit's cheeks and he cleared his throat. “Yes, well, a lot of good the armor does without some weapons. Dino?”

“Coming right up,” Dino replied enthusiastically before digging out a set of daggers. He handed half of them over to Bilbo and they both went about slipping them into various hidden sheaths throughout his armor. 

Bilbo slipped the final one into the underside of his right vambrace and Dino returned to his pack. He grabbed several leather pouches, some of which Thorin had already seen, and set them on the ground by Bilbo’s feet. He grabbed the largest pouch and pulled out a handful of the metal bolts the blind hobbit had had Thorin inspect. 

“What are those for?” Kili asked intrigued, barely giving the hobbit any room to work.

“Handbow bolts. Standard bounder weapon,” Dino informed as he began carefully slipping them into slots on the inside of the tasset, making sure they nestled into a pouch-like rim on the bottom.

“You mean this thing?” Kili snatched up a tiny bow, not even big enough to be a toy. It was shorter than his forearm. 

“Yep."

“You mean, that’s an actual, usable bow?” Fili wondered. 

“Yeah. It’s a handbow. Short range projectile weapon.” 

“Couldn’t you just use a slingshot?” Kili wondered. 

“We have those, too.” Dino dug one out of the pile before grabbing some more bolts. 

“But it’s so tiny. How do you use it?” Kili continued to inspect it baffled.

“Like a bow,” Dino teased, grabbing it and hanging it on Bilbo’s belt. He attached the sling shot and several small pouches before slipping Bilbo’s extra short staffs into specially placed loops on the back of his vest as the finishing touch. He stepped back, admiring his work once again. “Eru,” he breathed. “Twice as hot and just as deadly.”

“It seems excessive. I feel like I just gained twenty pounds,” Bilbo griped, fidgeting with his vest. 

Dino burst out laughing. “Well, that’s pretty standard bounder equipment. How’s it feel to be a honorary bounder?” He grinned widely as he helped Bilbo get more comfortable. 

“I feel like a bloody tank.”

“You’ll get used to it. Won’t even feel it anymore.” Dino laughed again, starting to slip his own gear back on. “It’s good to carry as much on you as possible. Makes ya less likely to lose something important.

Bilbo rolled his shoulders, adjusting to the weight, and sighed. “This better not hinder my movements.”

“The only thing that might slow ya down is those staffs, but I know ya ain't gonna give 'em up.”

“Absolutely not.” 

“If you are quite finished, perhaps we could get going.” Gandalf huffed irritably over the crowd of spectators, eager to get them moving again. 

“What's up his arse?” Dino asked quietly.

“Oh, nothing,” Bilbo answered at normal volume. “Probably missed out on his evening smoke is all. Bet he wishes he had his pipe.”

“Did you steal it?” Dino grinned at him mischievously. 

“Burgled, technically.”

Dino burst out laughing and the company mounted up. The hobbits grabbed their packs and they all got back on the road.

They weren’t all that far from Bree so Thorin didn’t push them on too hard and they kept their ponies at an comfortable walk as they traveled. The hobbits seemed to have no problem with the pace and managed comfortably enough to chatter as they walked. Or, at least, Dino chatted and Bilbo mostly nodded and responded when appropriate. 

Thorin surrendered the front of the line in order to linger about the middle just behind the hobbits. Not just to keep an eye on the overly affectionate Dino fellow, but also because he was having a hard time taking his eyes off his One. 

The longer he watched him, the more he had to admit how attractive his hobbit was all dressed up like that. Despite his initial complains, Bilbo wore the armor exceptionally well, having little trouble adjusting to the weight and bulk. And just watching him walk was giving Thorin a . . . growing problem. 

He looked away to try and calm himself, but only substituted the actual image of his One with another where he was decked out in Dwarrow robes and armor. Modified, of course, his hobbit was far too small for traditional dwarven armor. Perhaps something with mythril, embedded with gems and gilded with gold. 

He shifted discretely in his saddle, the conjured fantasies causing him even more discomfort, and sighed to himself. Being content with a platonic relationship wasn’t sounding that realistic with his One around to taunt him like this. He might as well forget that plan and start figuring out how to court the stubborn, blind hobbit. It would be so much easier if Master Baggins would simply recognize them as Ones.

His eyes drifted back to his hobbit, never able to stray from him for long. At least he was wearing armor now, even if the assortment of weapons was just for show. Thorin felt a little better that his One wasn’t walking about with nothing but fabric and a stick to protect him. 

He continued to admire the confident almost regal stride of his hobbit a they traveled down the road. Though, he may not have been as surreptitious as he would have liked as he spotted Dwalin eyeing him suspiciously out of the corner of his eye. 

They had walked without interruption by some time mid morning when Bilbo suddenly swatted Dino across his front with his stick forcing a responding ‘oof’ out of him.

“What was that for?” Dino asked as they came to a stop, Bilbo's stick preventing him from moving forward. 

“Do you smell that?”

“Smell what?” Dino sniffed, suddenly on full alert. 

“I believe elevensies is calling us . . . from over there.” Bilbo pointed off the road with his stick. 

“Sweet!” Dino wasted no time in sprinting in the indicated direction. 

“We do not have time for your little detours!” Gandalf barked irritably. 

“Go ahead then. We’ll catch up,” Bilbo returned unconcerned as he followed after his cousin at a more sedate pace. 

“Hobbits,” Gandalf sighed in annoyed resignation. 

Thorin fought back a smirk and veered his pony off the road to follow. He had no intention of letting his hobbit out of his sight. His nephews and a few others followed as well while the rest decided to wait on the road. 

They spurred their ponies on faster to catch up and arrived just as Dino spotted his target. 

“Apples! Nice catch, Bo! Hold my pack!” He tossed his pack to Bilbo who side stepped it and let it fall to the ground. Dino ran at the tree, running up the stump a couple steps before leaping off and grabbing a branch and swinging himself farther up. Thorin was impressed by the near effortless maneuver. 

“Wow. Your cousin’s pretty agile there, Master Baggins,” Fili admired. 

“He’s a bounder.” Bilbo shrugged. “One of the best. They spend a lot of time in trees.”

“Might even be half decent in combat,” Dwalin appraised as Thorin slipped off his pony to stand by his hobbit.

“You’d never find out. You’d be dead or incapacitated before you even knew he was there. That’s how The bounders work,” Bilbo corrected. 

Fili and Kili dismounted and dashed to the tree, scaling it much slower and less flashily, to join the hobbit in finding the best fruits. 

“Hey, Bo! Come on up!” Dino called down from where he climbed about looking for the best apples. 

“You know very well I like my feet firmly planted on the ground,” Bilbo returned. “I’ll leave the tree climbing to you.”

“Suit yourself. Catch!” 

An apple came flying out of the tree and Thorin caught it reflexively before it could collide with his One’s face. Thank Mahal for his reflexes. He hadn’t even had time to panic. He glared up into the tree, the hobbit all but hidden amidst its branches. “He should be more careful,” he growled.

“Dino can handle a tree just fine,” Bilbo retorted, unconcerned or oblivious to the apple that nearly bludgeoned his face. 

“I was talking about the apple,” Thorin rumbled, still annoyed by the blatant disregard the other hobbit had shown.

Like a flash, Master Baggins’ hand shot up snatching another apple out of the air only milliseconds before it could smack Thorin square in the face. Lurching away from the projectile belatedly, Thorin stared in confusion as his brain processed what had just happened.

“Maybe you should be more concerned about yourself,” Bilbo remarked, breathing on the apple and polishing it on his sleeve. 

Thorin stared in awe and befuddlement. He was so preoccupied trying to figure out if he was imagining things, he was oblivious to the second apple that came hurdling towards him as well. Bilbo knocked it off course with a quick swing of his stick. 

“That’s enough, Dino,” he ordered in a disapproving tone. No more apples came flying out. 

“I think your cousin has it out for me,” Thorin rumbled, taking advantage of having his One to himself for a few moments as the others were all preoccupied with Dino or the tree. 

“He’s a bit over protective,” Bilbo explained. “You can effectively remove the target from your back . . . and your face, by keeping your distance.”

“From you?” Thorin deducted the implied meaning and Bilbo nodded.

“And if I refuse?”

Bilbo's face turned to him slightly but he didn’t get the chance to answer before Dino and the princes dropped out of the tree. 

“Got a nice haul!” Dino informed, using his tunic like a pouch to carry the bushel of apples he’d picked. “Should last us a few hours.”

“A few hours?!” Dwalin echoed. “Ye got a whole sack worth’s there!”

“That’s what I said. A few hours worth,” Dino confirmed, making Bilbo chuckle. 

“Come on. Let’s get back on the road before Gandalf has a hissy.” Bilbo ushered Dino along by the arm. “They smell good,” he added leaning closer to his cousin. 

“Help yourself. You found them,” Dino encouraged.

“You know I will,” Bilbo answered. “You know how much I love apples.” He smirked playfully. 

Dino burst out laughing at what must have been an inside joke. “And here I though ya burgled all those apples as a faunt for the practice. No one ever did believe it was you.”

“It was good for that too,” Bilbo agreed before taking a bite out of his first apple. "Being blind has its advantages."

They got back to the road and continued on their way to Bree. True to Dino’s words, they had devoured the whole bushel of apples within a couple of hours, leaving a trail of apple cores in their wake. 

Bilbo’s mood seemed to lift significantly and he jested and teased with his cousin as they walked. 

“Eru! We haven’t sparred in forever!” Dino complained loudly following a conversation about his recent adventures on patrol. 

“Probably because someone hasn’t bother to visit in forever.”

“Aww! Come on! I told ya I was working!” Dino whined. 

“So much for being so concerned about me. I could have swooned and been passed out for days and you wouldn’t have even known it.” 

“Hey. That’s not funny. You don’t know how many times I’ve rushed over to yer smial just to make sure that hadn’t happened,” Dino said seriously. 

“It’s good to know you’ve moved on to care about other things more than me,” Bilbo accuses teasingly.

“You know that’s not true,” Dino immediately retorted. “I’ve asked you countless times to marry me and you've always said no. I needed some kind of backup life plan and boundin’ suits me pretty well.”

“You make it sound like it’s all my fault you’re a bounder. Would you have just dropped it if I’d said yes?”

“In a heartbeat!” Dino replied emphatically. “Of course I’d have dropped it ta be with you!”

Bilbo’s steps slowed to a stop. “Wait. What are you saying?”

“Eru, Bilbo,” Dino sighed. “I always suspected ya thought I was just joking, but I didn’t really think someone as perceptive as you could be that oblivious.”

The dwarrow line came to a stop to watch the unfolding drama. Thorin’s hackles raised in possessive jealousy. He couldn’t just sit by and watch his One become promised to someone else! 

“Are . . . Are you . . . You were serious?” Bilbo asked sounding genuinely disturbed. 

“Yes.” Dino answered with uncharacteristic soberness. “Of course I was serious, Bo.”

“I . . . I didn’t think-“ Bilbo twisted the stick in his hand. 

“Of course you didn’t.” Dino cut him off gently. “You’ve been fed that ridiculous cursed nonsense like a poison for so long, it’s like you can’t even consider that ya might be wanted by someone, be loved even! That’s why I hate that blasted town!” Dino vented in frustration. 

“Dino, I . . . I-I-“

“Stop. Don’t.” Dino stopped him. “You don’t have to say anything. I’ve . . . already accepted it. Just . . . forget I said anything. All right? I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean to make ya uncomfortable.” He wrapped an arm around Bilbo’s waist and coaxed him into moving again. “I just . . . wanted you to know I was serious . . . Ya know . . In case ya happen to change yer mind.”

“Dino . . . “

“Otherwise, we don’t need to talk about it anymore. . . You’re still my favorite.” He squeezed Bilbo closer in a one armed hug and the company slipped into an awkward silence as they continued toward Bree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Bilbo and the gang make it to Bree and enjoy an evening of beer and song. Dino is, unsurprisingly the life of the party. Bilbo, however, treats the company to a bit of a surprise when Dino pulls him into the party.
> 
> Example of [leather vambraces](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/0e/41/89/0e41899eed5c0286ad2f02d964d82163.jpg). Bilbo's would have been lighter though.  
> Example of [leather tassat](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/chroniclesofarn/images/a/a7/Leather-tassets.jpg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/340?cb=20110920163302) only shorter and the inside is designed to hold the hand bow bolts.  
> The [leather greaves](https://mcishop.azureedge.net/mciassets/w_9_0040721_lion-leather-greaves_550.png)would be simple.  
> The collar would be similar to the one on this [ gorget](https://i.etsystatic.com/6117804/r/il/fcac43/1121267945/il_794xN.1121267945_5ygy.jpg) but designed to attach the the vest and open in the front.  
> The vest would be similar to [this](https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/615jJK1DH%2BL._AC_UX679_.jpg) but styled more like a wasitcoat.  
> In this case, the handbow is not technically a crossbow but a very small short bow designed to be used horizontally like a crossbow.


	11. Singing and Dancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your support everyone! Enjoy your bonuses! 😁

It wasn’t long before Dino initiated some lively chatter, engaging the dwarrow and exchanging interesting stories as they traveled. The overall tension of the group had eased but Master Baggins remained quiet. 

Thorin watched him, less interested in the stories as he was any potential romance involving his One and someone else. Fear had twisted his stomach as he literally watched his One be proposed to. Of all the ways he had imagined losing his other half, watching him choose someone else hadn’t been one he considered. 

Relief had washed over him when Baggins hadn’t immediately accepted the other hobbit's proposal but he was left with an anxious unease in his gut. Bilbo could still change his mind. He didn’t seem as strongly opposed as Thorin would like. And new prospective romances could always arise. 

Dwalin had already expressed an interest, and there were a few others in the company he had noticed eyeing the hobbit with intrigue. He understood the attraction perfectly. His One was certainly eye catching, from those gem-like eyes, gilded curls, and fae beauty. He was exotic and fascinating enough to make any healthy dwarf want to discover a little more. 

Of course, he knew the company would keep their distance if they knew the hobbit was his One. But with the change in their behavior, it would only be a matter of time before someone let it slip and Master Baggins would find out. Thorin had no reason to believe his One would receive the news favorably considering he already distrusted them. 

No, the company finding out would only make things more difficult as would expressing his interest blatantly. He needed to build up more trust with the hobbit before he made a move. He groaned inwardly. That meant he was going to have to hold his tongue--and his fists--when others tried to proposition his One. 

He growled lowly in his chest in frustration and only noticed the hobbit’s ear twitch because he was already staring intently. His curiosity momentarily eclipsed his frustration and he cleared his throat softly as a test. The hobbit’s ear twitched again and Thorin’s brow rose in fascination. 

Tharkun had mentioned that Bilbo had particularly strong senses to make up for his loss of sight, but to pick up such subtle sounds over the chatter and thudding of pony hooves was impressive. He wondered just how good his hobbit’s heading was. 

They ambled into Bree shortly before the sun started to go down. Several company members dashed about to do some last minute shopping for supplies before the shops started to close. The rest settled their ponies at a stable before grabbing their supplies and heading to the inn to acquire lodging. 

Thorin led the way, approaching the innkeeper to bargain for rooms. The price was . . . unsatisfying and he glared at the innkeeper. Dwarrow rarely received fair prices in man towns, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He would have to accept if they wanted beds for the night. 

“Hey, Keep! What’s doin’?” Dino hopped up onto a bar stool, interrupting Thorin’s conversation with the man. 

“Ah, Mister Brandybuck! Haven’t seen you in a while. Will you be needing a room?” The innkeeper asked pleasantly as he reached for a key. 

“Sure thing! Me and my cuz! Mister ‘Underhill.’ You remember him, dontchya?” Dino intoned strangely as he drew the innkeepers attention to Master Baggins. 

The man peered over the counter, his face tightening in recognition as soon as he spotted those soft, peridot eyes. “Oh, yes, of course. The, uh, the special room then, is it?” The innkeeper said nervously. 

“If you don’t mind,” Master Baggins confirmed. “I’ll also pay for whatever ‘extra fees’ you plan to charge these dwarrow here. They are . . . companions of mine.”

“These dwarves?” The man looked them over suspiciously. “No, no. No extra fees.”

“Really? Cause it sounded like-“ 

“No fees for guests of Mister Underhill. They’ll stay for a fair price.” The innkeeper assured, cutting Dino off. “How many beds?”

“Thirteen. Or as many as you have,” Thorin informed, curious about the innkeeper’s reaction to the blind hobbit. 

“Of course.” The innkeeper grabbed several keys. The price was significantly lower than what they had initially been told, less than half, and Thorin was grateful for whatever connections his One seemed to have. 

He grabbed their keys, Dino paying for and grabbing his and Bilbo’s, and they headed towards the stairs to find their rooms. 

“What’s the ‘special’ room?" Thorin wondered as the tightness of the hall pressed him closer to his One as they searched. 

“I guess you could call it ‘impaired’ friendly,” Bilbo returned blandly. “It’s a hobbit suite with a simple design to make it easier to navigate. Inns always give me headaches.” He revealed softly as Dino called from further down the hall, having found their room and gotten it open. 

“Will you be all right?” Thorin rumbled quietly as the others found and claimed their rooms. 

“I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself,” Bilbo returned, following Dino to their room. 

“Of course,” Thorin grumbled to himself. He paused as he watched the two hobbits disappear into their own room, that constant flame of jealousy flaring up again.

After claiming beds and unloading their packs and sacks, the company locked their rooms and wandered down to the bar for some food and ale. 

Thorin, Dwalin and Balin claimed a table while the others mingled or claimed tables of their own. The bar was busy and the evening was just winding up. He ignored the noise and ate in silence, his mind preoccupied with the dilemma of figuring out how to court his One.

The only other hobbit he knew was Dinodas and Thorin sincerely doubted he would be willing to offer pointers on courting his own love interest. He sighed and realized he knew very little about hobbits besides the superficial facts.

“What’s got ye brooding?” Dwalin picked up on Thorin’s distraction. 

“Nothing.” He lied, but neither of the Fundin’s seemed convinced. 

He perked up when he spotted a hobbit descending the stairs. His interest morphed to disappointment. It was only Dinodas. “Hey!” He called him over as the hobbit was about to walk by them. 

Dino stopped and raised a brow at him before heading over. “Yeah?”

“Where’s Master Baggins?”

Dino studied him suspiciously. “He said he had some letters to write. He should be down later. . . . Why?”

“Do you think it wise to leave him unattended?” Thorin asked. There were always troublemakers and ruffians hanging about bars, especially this time of the day. 

Dino’s brow rose higher. “He’s fine. But hey, if you want to explain why he needs a hobbit-sitter, be my guest.” He turned to walk away. “Best hope that dwarven skull of yours is a hard as they say.” He threw over his shoulder as he headed to the bar.

Thorin glared as he walked away before turning to find both of his cousins staring at him. “What?” 

“Are ye worried about our Master Baggins?” Balin asked. “I can have someone go check on him if ye like.”

“No. If Dinodas says he’s fine, he’s fine.”

“All right.” Balin relented but Dwalin was still studying him suspiciously. 

The sun went down and the inn grew increasingly lively as men, dwarrow and hobbits alike retreated into its walls for ale and entertainment after a long day. Dwalin and Balin eventually wandered off to chat and drink and Thorin was left alone at his corner table, too distracted in the only absent member of their party to be interested in anything else.

To his advantage, it was his quiet brooding that allowed him to be the first to notice when another small hobbit emerged from upstairs. Bilbo stopped at the bottom of the stairs and pressed his fingers into his temples. He looked decidedly uncomfortable. 

Thorin immediately stood up to fetch him as Bilbo wandered forward a couple steps uneasily. A man walked by, brushing the hobbit aside with more force than necessary. The impact sent him staggering right into Thorin’s arms thanks to his timely arrival. 

“Are you all right?” Thorin rumbled, giving the man a warning glare as he held the hobbit steady. 

“No,” Master Baggins answered in a strained voice. “I need a drink.”

Thorin guided him over to his table, which the stubborn hobbit surprisingly allowed, and shuffled him into the corner before taking a defensive seat on the outer end of the bench.

Bilbo snatched Thorin’s half-empty mug of ale and started chugging. He downed it in moments before pulling out his buzzer and snapping it open. He pulled the string and set it on the table, rubbing his fingers into his temples as he focused on the barely audible hum.

Thorin signaled over a waitress with his empty mug before turning back to keep an eye on his One. “Better?”

“Not yet. Need more ale,” Baggins moaned. 

Thorin chuckled and slid his refilled mug into the hobbit’s reach. Bilbo wasted no time in draining it of its contents at an impressive rate. He set down the once again empty mug with a sigh. He seemed to finally be starting to relax. 

Thorin signaled for another refill. “You can put it down.”

“I’m a hobbit,” Bilbo replied as if it was all the explanation needed. 

Thorin huffed and returned the mug. 

Bilbo sipped at it at an easier pace, hiding his buzzer away in his pocket. He had stripped off the bounder armor and weapons and was once again unarmed and unprotected. 

“Finish your letters?” Thorin asked, looking for any kind of conversation with his hobbit. 

“Yes,” Bilbo answered succinctly. 

Bilbo emptied the cup again before pushing it back to Thorin. “Thanks. I guess I should go get my own,” He mumbled as he slid out of the corner Thorin had hidden him in. 

Thorin would have been more than happy to continue sharing, but thought better of actually saying so. Instead, he watched his One wade through the crowd to the bar to fetch a mug of his own. Thorin got up and followed at a discrete distance, uncomfortable with letting the blind hobbit out of his sight. 

Dino was rapidly become the life of the party and he cheered his third drinking victory, his most recent victim slumped unconscious over the table. Thorin shook his head. The company had quickly warmed up to him with a few ales in their bellies and he was front and center of the growing festivities. 

Dino received a good deal of back pats and praises on his victory before someone shouted for a song. “Sing us a song!” Another echoed the demand. Dino looked about and spotted Bilbo returning from the front counter with his cup. 

“Bilbo!” The larger hobbit pried his way through the crowd to jump out beside his cousin. “Sing with me!” He demanded, grabbing the blind hobbit and dragging him back into the crowd. 

“Dino!” Bilbo protested, trying not to spill his drink in the jostling. “I haven’t sung in forever! How bloody drunk are you?”

“Three men drunk!” Dino replied cheerfully. “Three men under the table!” He snatched away Bilbo's stick and cup, handing them off before recruiting Bofur to help hoist his cousin up onto a table. “Up you go!” They tossed him up easily.

“Dino!” Bilbo growled as he flailed to find his balance on the wobbly table. Determined to be there to catch him if he fell, Thorin pushed through the crowd. 

“Come on, Bo! They want a song! Wouldn’t want to disappoint them!” Dino coaxed cheerfully, having joined his cousin on the table and wrapped a securing arm around his waist. “Everyone knows hobbit’s have the best drinking songs!”

Thorin came to a stop at the table’s edge, glaring up at Dino. He wasn’t pleased with any of the situation. Dino spotted him and winked unrepentantly. 

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” Bilbo groaned and chugged another beer down.

“~Oh you can search far and wide, you can drink the whole town dry~” Dino began in a strong baritone as Bilbo finished up his drink. “But you’ll never find a beer so brown~”

“~But you’ll never find a beer so brown~” The crowd echoed, led by other hobbits. 

“~As the one we drink in our home town!~” Dino ended the verse with a resounding echo. 

Thorin glowered disapprovingly. It was highly unlikely his prim and proper One would get sucked into such frivolous behavior. He considered rescuing his hobbit off the table but didn’t think he could pull it off without attracting too much attention. He would have to wait for Bilbo to express a desire to get down. He was not prepared for what happened instead.

“~You can keep you fancy ales, you can drink them by the flagon~” Bilbo belted out in a smooth, sweet tenor and Thorin’s jaw dropped. “~But the only brew for the brave and true~”

“Comes from the Green dragon!” Dino and the crowd join in.

Thorin was transfixed. Bilbo’s voice was . . . wow! Not just some drunken drawl that anyone with a few beers could pull off. Dino’s wasn’t bad either, but, besides being smooth and easy on the ears, Bilbo’s had an educated finesse that blew his cousin out of the water.

“~Hey! Ho! To the bottle I go, to heal my heart and drown my woe~” Dino began the next verse, gesturing dramatically along with the words as Bilbo took another gulp of beer. “Rain may fall and wind may blow, but there still be many miles to go~” 

“Sweet is the sound of pouring rain and the stream that falls from hill to plain~” Bilbo picked up seamlessly. "Better than rain or rippling brook is a mug of beer inside this Took!~” He ended emphatically, a cheer rising in agreement as the song ended.

Fresh mugs were handed to each of the performing hobbits and they chugged them down, the crowd joining their break to fill up on beer. Thorin quirked a quiet smile. He never imagined his One has such a carefree side. It was interesting and alluring. 

Dino finished his mug first and handed it off. “~There’s~” He began, holding the vowel and winding up the next song. 

“No, not that one,” Bilbo complained before drowning any further complains with more alcohol.

Dino grinned and gave his cousin’s waist a little tug. “~An inn, there’s an inn, there’s a merry old inn, beneath the old grey hill~” He jumped into the next song. “~And there they brew a beer so brown that the man in the moon himself came down one night to drink his fill~” The crowd joined in with their own slurred voices, stomping and pounding to the beat. Bilbo finished his cup and tossed it over his shoulder carelessly. 

“~The olster has a tipsy cat that plays a five stringed fiddle~” Bilbo picked up, his higher voice easily carrying over the drunken crowd. “~And up and down he saws his bow~” He imitated the motions. “~Now squeaky high~” His flawless voice rising to a high note and holding it. The crowd abandoned their own singing in the moment to hoot and holler their praise. Several whistles sounded from throughout the room. 

“~Now purring low~” Dino bowed, dipping to his lowest tones and receiving a few calls of his own.

“~Now sawing in the middle~" They sung together.

"~The landlord keeps a little dog that is mighty fond of jokes~" Dino dove into the next line, bouncing on his feet as he began dancing along. "When there's good cheer among the guests, he cocks an ear at all the jests and laughs until he chokes~" The crowd sang along, swinging their mugs and stomping their feet along with the tune.

Dino twirled around, hooking his arm into his cousin's so they were facing opposite directions, and started slowly dancing them in circles as Bilbo led the next line. 

"~So the cat on his fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle, a jig that would wake the dead~" Bilbo sung on his turn. "He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune, while the landlord shook the Man in the Moon~"

"'It's after three!' he said~" The crowd shouted out in unison. As the verses passed, the tempo sped up and soon they were kicking their heels and bouncing in circles to the rapid tempo. The song continued and Thorin found himself clapping along to the beat. The infectious mirth chasing away even his broody mood as he admired his One's performance.

"~Now quicker the fiddle went deedle-dum-diddle; the dog began to roar~" Dino belted out as they spun around on the table, knocking off dishes and kicking mugs out of hands waving too close to the action. "~The cow and the horses stood on their heads; the guests all bounded from their beds and danced upon the floor~" The tempo continued to increase.

"~The round Moon rolled behind the hill as the Sun raised up her head~" Bilbo led the final verse. "~She hardly believed her fiery eyes; for though it was day, to her surprise~"

"They all went back to bed!" Dino and Bilbo both came to a stop to sing out the ending line, the crowd shouting it out with them. Cheers and whistles rang out as Dino spun back around, wrapping his arm securely back around his tipsy cousin.

They bowed dramatically several times before Dino finally consented to helping Bilbo off the table. Dino hopped down, leaving his cousin wobbling unsteadily. Loosing his balance, Bilbo flailed and toppled off the table. 

Thorin tried vainly to reach him, but, fortunately, Dino was there and Bilbo fell harmlessly into his cousin's arms. Dino set him upright, unconcerned by his plunge off the table, and guided him out of the crowd.

Compliments and pickup lines continued to be sent in their direction. "Hey, Cutie. You sing and dance like a charm." A particularly drunk dwarf stopped them as they waded through. "Ever tumbled with a dwarf before?" He asked with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

Dino gave the dwarf a fierce glare and some of the company started closing in, preparing to interfere. Thorin perhaps more than the others.

"Yes," Bilbo answered candidly. "And, no, I'm not interested in doing it again." 

Dwalin cast Thorin an intrigued raised brow at the information. Dino tried to press on past the dwarf but he stepped in front of them and blocked their way.

"Maybe it just wasn't the right dwarf. I'd give you a good time." He grabbed Bilbo's arm making him visibly tense despite the alcohol in his system.

"He said he wasn't interested," Dino growled, trying to pull his cousin out of the dwarf's grip.

"I ain't talkin' ta you," The dwarf snarled back.

Thorin and Dwalin closed in about the same time and Dwalin grabbed the offending dwarf's arm, squeezing it in a bruising grip. "The lad said no," Dwalin reiterated in warning. Thorin came up behind the hobbits providing a barrier against further propositioning as Dwalin wrestled the dwarf away.

Bofur pushed in between the resisting dwarf and Master Baggins, offering even more shelter. "That was quite a performance! Didn't know ya had it in ya!" He praised, offering Dino Bilbo's stick. Bilbo grabbed it instead.

"Thank you. Wasn't sure myself. Can't say I do much dancing or singing anymore." 

"Why not? You was great!"

"It's not fitting for a the blind," Bilbo sighed as if it explained everything.

Dino deposited his tipsy cousin at Thorin's table, lingering just long enough to make sure he didn't want anything before wandering off, a strange, hostile glint in his eyes. Thorin suspected there was a certain dwarf about to be paid a visit. Not that it was any of his business. The dwarf had it coming. He took a seat and returned to watching over his blind One.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neither song is mine and "The Man in the Moon Stayed up too Late" belongs entirely to Tolkien. 
> 
> Next time: Bilbo gets into a bit of trouble but manages himself well enough much to the company's surprise. Thorin realizes he's going to need a bit more help keeping an eye on his hobbit.
> 
> So, there's a video of hobbit drinking songs sung by Peter Hollens and Hank Green on YouTube which is my absolute favorite version of the songs and inspired the dancing/singing scene in this chapter. You can find it [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iUKjJn0rOec). Go give it a listen to get a better sense of the scene if you like. It's great.🥰


	12. Spoons and Poisons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! 😁

Bilbo leaned on his elbows against the table, rubbing his face in his hands. 

“Are you all right?” Thorin rumbled, unsure of what else to say. 

Bilbo arms fell to the table and folded. “You ask that a lot.” He stared with sightless eyes. 

Thorin opened his mouth to respond but didn't know what to say. He couldn’t give his true motives.

“I don’t know if your faking it or actually care for some unfathomable reason, but you can stop either way.” Bilbo continued coldly before Thorin could think of something. “I don’t need a dwarf’s concern. I don’t _want_ your concern.”

Remaining silent, Thorin internalized the disappointment and pain caused by the blatant rejection. “As you wish.” His own voice was deceptively cold. 

“Good. I’m glad we could come to an understanding.” Bilbo's tone turned more casual. “It’s nothing personal. You may all be perfectly decent fellows, but I’m not about to risk my life on taking your word for it. I don’t trust dwarrow. Now, it seems I’ve misplaced my mug, so, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get a new one.” He pushed up from the table and left, not waiting for a reply. 

Thorin didn't speak a word as the hobbit left. He wanted to be angry. It was his reflexive response to disappointment--to heartache. But he just couldn't. Instead, he picked apart what Bilbo had said. He said it 'wasn’t personal.' That he ‘didn’t’ trust dwarrow, but, the way he said, it sounded more like he _couldn’t_ trust dwarrow without risking his safety in the process. 

Bilbo had outright admitted to being intimately involved with a dwarf at some point, and now he associated dwarrow as unsafe. He could have been lying or playing it off as a joke, but Thorin had never heard any degree of dishonesty from the hobbit, and his familiarity with the nature of dwarrow further indicated a more in-depth exposure to their people. Had he . . . suffered somehow at the hands of this dwarf he had been involved with?

Thorin sighed. Any dwarf would be blessed by Mahal to hold such a gem. Was there really one out there stupid enough to take advantage of such a treasure? To abuse such a gift? Of course he knew the answer. For all their qualities, dwarrow had their own vices. Greed, possessiveness and jealousy were the most prominent, and he felt them like any other. Perhaps more accutely since he'd found his One. 

The pain transformed into a simmering rage as he imagined his hobbit in the arms of another. Images of his One suffering by those same hands ran unbidden through his head. His grip tightened around his cup, and the wood creaked under the force of his anger.

He _was_ angry, furious even, but not at Bilbo. His fiery rage was reserved for the fool that caused his One to suffer, leaving him insecure and uneasy--for the bloody orc spawn who dared to touch his One in the first place. 

The cup cracked in his hand, and he pried his fingers from it before it broke completely. It did little to douse his growing ire for the unnamed dwarf in Bilbo’s past. 

A crash startled Thorin out of his murderous brooding, and he spun around cursing himself. He should have been keeping an eye on his hobbit!

“Get out my way, ya little worm!” A man spat venomously, loomed over a hobbit braced against a misplaced table. Thorin’s hobbit. He cursed under his breath and jumped to his feet. The room had gone silent as the drunken lot watched on dumbly.

“My apologies. Next time you try to walk over me like I'm some doormat, I’ll be sure to trip you properly so you land on your bloody face.” Master Baggins snapped back.

“Wadya say ta me, ya little half-pint?” The man stalked closer and hoisted him up by the front of his tunic. “I oughta skin that pretty face . . . “ The man paused, his eyes widening in disbelief. “It’s you!”

Thorin closed in as quickly as he dared and spotted several members of the company doing the same. The man looked volatile. They couldn’t risk setting him off before they had Master Baggins out of his reach. 

“You haven’t changed a bit! Ya look like you’ve barely aged a day!” The man accused, shaking the poor hobbit in the air. 

Bilbo let out a strained cough, craning his face away. “Wish I could say the same. You reek even worse than before. Thank Yavanna I’m blind. It’s bad enough smelling you.” He coughed again. 

The man snarled and slammed the hobbit onto the nearby table. Bilbo’s lungs emptied with a huff and the company jumped to interfere. They stopped in their tracks when the man pulled out a knife and held it to Bilbo’s face. 

Gripping the hobbit's jaw with one hand as Bilbo tried to suck in more air, the man forced his head still. “You and me have some unfinished business.” He sneered with unsettling intent, dragging the dagger lightly down Bilbo’s front and using it to lift his tunic before wedging the tip of his blade into his pant ties. “Ain’t no dwarf gonna save ya this time.” 

Thorin’s vision turned red. 

“I don’t need a bloody dwarf,” Bilbo snarled. Before Thorin could launch an attack, Master Baggins kicked the man in the stomach. The man doubled over, falling into the hobbit’s reach. Bilbo slammed his open palms over the man's ears and the man shrieked in pain. 

Staggering back, the foul man gave Bilbo enough space to swing his legs and flip himself onto the table. Bilbo took a wide stance and balanced on the rickety surface,

“Bo!” A shout rang out as the man recovered and prepared to strike with his dagger. Something flew over the crowd, and Bilbo caught it just as the man lunged at him. He dodged, grabbing the man’s wrist and stabbing his forearm with the item he’d caught.

The man yelped, and the knife fell from his hand. Bilbo slipped his fist to the blunt end of the wooden item and slammed it into the man’s temple, making him scream and recoil in pain. Bilbo wobbled as he regained his balance. 

“Really, Dino? A bloody spoon?” He yelled disgruntled. 

“It was the first thing I could find!” Dino defended, trying to push through the crowd to help. 

Thorin was frozen in his tracks, his brain still processing what he had just seen. His hobbit wasn’t half bad.

The man roared and lunged again to attack, but, instead of targeting Bilbo directly, he grabbed the edge of the table and threw it upward, knocking the hobbit clear off.

“Bo!” Dino screamed as he struggled to reach him in time.

Finally, Thorin’s feet moved, and he dashed forward. His One thudded into his chest, and he caught him reflexively, wrapping his arms securely around his hobbit. 

Bilbo gasped, trying to recover the air once more forced from his lungs. The man threw the table aside and charged them. 

Dwalin and Bifur rushed to intervene as Bilbo found his feet but were delayed by the pressing crowd. Bilbo growled and pushed away from Thorin. “You bloody, rancid moron.” He chucked the spoon in his hand, and it spun through the air, pegging the man right in the nose. 

The spoon's victim screamed and doubled over, holding his nose as it gushed blood. 

“Bo!” Dino called, having finally made it to the edge of the crowd. He grabbed and tossed Bilbo’s walking stick. 

The blind hobbit snatched it from the air and spun it. Letting it slide in his hand until he held in by the narrow, bottom end, he gripped it in both hands. “Don’t ever touch me.” He snarled and swung. The broad handle of the stick collided with the man’s head, and he dropped like a sack of potatoes. 

Everyone stood and stared at the unconscious man. His nose gushed blood, and his eye was turning black and puffy. Meanwhile, Master Baggins looked relatively unscathed. 

“Knock out!” Dino jumped into the circle that had formed around the scuffle. “Nice one, Bo! See? You made the spoon work!” He kicked the man and rolled him over, tying his hands behind his back. 

“No thanks to you,” Bilbo grumbled. “A wooden spoon doesn’t bloody count as a stick.” He put a hand on his back and straightened it, wincing at the pops. “Get him out of here. He reeks to high heaven.” 

“Oh, don’t you worry. I’ll take care him,” Dino replied in a sinister tone. “Hey you!" He pointed at Dwalin. “You’re a big, tough dwarf. You gonna make me drag his overgrown arse out on my own?”

Dwalin raised a brow and cast a glance at his king. Thorin nodded and the warrior marched over, slinging the man over his shoulder. Dragging the man’s feet behind him, Dwalin carried him out of the inn. 

“Oh! How convenient!” Dino praised. “You all right, Bo?” 

“I’m fine. Go.” Bilbo waved him away.

“All right. I’ll be back soon.” Dino followed the dwarf. “Shows over people!” He shouted and clapped on his way. 

Bilbo shook his head. “I give up. I’m done for the night.” He shuffled toward the stairs. 

“Hey! You all right?” Bofur sprinted over as the bar began moving again. 

“I’m fine.”

“Are ya sure! He really tossed ya about!” Bofur touched Bilbo’s arm, trying to get him to stop. 

“I’m fine!” Bilbo pulled away harshly. “Don’t touch me.” He added softly, rubbing his arm where Bofur had grabbed him. “A few bruises, I’m sure, but I’ll be fine. I’m going to . . . turn in for the night. Don’t let me interrupt your good time. Won’t have this much ale on the road.” He gestured the dwarf away and slowly made his way up the stairs. 

Thorin watched his One leave. He crossed his arms and tried contain his unsatisfied fury. The company had broken from the crowd and waited for his judgement. 

“Oin. See if he will let you treat him,” he instructed lowly. Oin nodded and headed upstairs. Thorin wanted to go himself but doubted he would be well received. “Bofur, make sure he doesn’t get any unwelcome visitors.” 

“Aye!” Bofur saluted with determination and bounded up the stairs as well. 

“Go back to your drinks, but keep your eyes and ears open.” He ordered the rest and resolved to go after Dwalin and Dinodas. He had a few little gifts of his own for the man.

Hobbits, dwarrow, and men alike, cleared out of his way as he stomped out. His anger radiating, sending them scattering out of his way. He stopped outside the inn’s door. Hearing shouts of pain, he wandered over to a nearby alley between the buildings to investigate. 

To his surprise, Dwalin stood watched as Dino had a little ‘chat’ with the man.

“Do you know what this is?” Dino asked dipping the end of some kind of dart into a little bottle. The man shook his head. He wore a few more bruises then before. “You don’t need to know the name of it, but it’s a poison. A very powerful and painful poison.” Dino waved the dart in front of the man's face slowly. “One nick of this and you’ll be writhing in your own vomit and bodily fluids for . . . Oh, a good twelve to twenty-four hours.”

The man whimpered and Dwalin shot Thorin an impressed look. Thorin watched a moment as the hobbit murmured dark things to his victim. It seemed Dinodas had things well under control. Tapping Dwalin’s shoulder, Thorin gestured for him to follow with a jerk of his head. 

Dwalin glanced once more at the man and his tormentor before following his king out. Thorin wandered to the nearby stables with his curious friend behind. He'd made up his mind. So what if Master Baggins was quick thinking and a little skilled with a stick? It wasn’t going to save him from an orc. He couldn’t protect a blind hobbit on his own.

Entering the stables, he scanned each stall to make sure there weren’t any unwanted eavesdroppers. 

“What’s goin’ on?” Dwalin asked suspiciously, glancing out toward where they'd left the hobbit. 

“I need your help with something,” Thorin replied, satisfied that they were alone. 

Dwalin stiffened to attention at Thorin’s serious tone. “Name it.”

“It’s Bi- . . . Master Baggins.”

“Aye. Not bad for a blind one. But a drunk man ain’t no orc. Startin’ ta think that Dinodas fellow might be a better fit for the job.” 

“No!” Thorin snapped before reigning himself back in. He would not leave his One behind. “It has to be Master Baggins.”

Dwalin studied him. “Why? Ye weren’t any more eager ta bring 'im when ye first met ‘im then the rest of us. And then ye just changed yer mind over night? Ye never did say why.”

“The same reason I am asking you as my cousin and friend to help me watch over and protect him.” 

“And what would that be?”

Thorin sucked in a breath and sighed it out, rubbing a hand over his face. “Because we need him . . . _I_ need him.”

Dwalin narrowed his eyes, not buying the explanation. 

Becoming preemptively defensive, Thorin straightened to his full height. “He’s my One.” 

Dwalin’s expression went from skeptical to incredulous and finally confused before morphing into a comical wide-eyed disbelief. “No.”

“He is. I knew it before I even laid eyes on him.” Thorin rubbed his face again. “That’s why I said no to him coming at first. I didn't want to risk it.” 

“Then why’d ye say yes?”

“Because I couldn’t stand leaving him either!” Thorin threw up his hands in frustration. “I felt it, Dwalin! I felt our souls connect for one split second! I . . . I couldn’t risk never experiencing that again. I doubt I would have been much use on the quest if I had left him anyway.”

Dwalin was still staring with that ridiculous look on his face. “Yer One’s a bloody hobbit? A bloody blind hobbit?”

Thorin rolled his eyes and paced in a little circle. “Yes, Dwalin. I’ve already come to terms with that.”

“Does that even happen?” Dwalin asked no one in particular. 

“Obviously.”

“Are ye sure?”

“Yes! I bloody felt our souls connect!”

Dwalin rubbed at his beard, unperturbed by the snappy retort. “Mahal. And I was thinkin’ about beddin’ him.” 

Thorin stopped his pacing to pin his friend with a dark glare. 

“I didn’t know! Nor does anyone else! I’m not the only one who’s considerin' it!”

Thorin growled in frustration. 

“Why didn’t ye say anything?”

“Because he does not recognize me! Worse! He does not trust me! If he finds out that I’m claiming he’s my One, he will only distance himself from me more!”

Dwalin couldn’t refute his concerns. “But they need to know! We’re just two dwarrow! We can't be everywhere at once! He’s blind and already proving to be a trouble magnet! The whole company should know so we can prioritize his safety! Bloody Mahal, Thorin! What if he gets skewered by an orc blade or chomped by a warg? Do ye realize what that could do ta ye?”

“Yes!” He knew the risks! He also knew Bilbo wouldn’t just let them shelter him regardless of Thorin’s claims. “He is stubborn and independent, Dwalin! That's why I need your help watching over him discreetly. He already thinks we’re smothering him.”

“But if he’s yer One, why can't ye just talk to him?”

“Maybe hobbits don’t have Ones! Maybe he doesn’t recognize or understand what I am to him! I don’t know what’s going on in his head, but he doesn’t acknowledge me as his One and me trying to convince him of it right now will only make things worse! I need to earn his trust first!”

Dwalin sighed, still looking confused. “Mahal, this is gonna make things tough.”

“Will you help me or not?”

“O’ course! Are ye daft? I was tryin’ ta look out for ‘im before ye even said anythin', most of us are! It ain’t like we want to see ‘im on the wrong end of an orc blade! Despite his sass and distance, he’s been generous. We don’t forget that.”

“Thank you.” Thorin rubbed at his eyes. He felt like he’d won only the first of a long line of battles.

“Why’s he so distrustin' anyway. It might help to know that.”

“I do not know the details, but I suspect he was involved with a dwarf before, and it ended badly. He doesn’t feel safe with us.” 

Dwalin’s face twisted, matching Thorin’s inner rage. “Ye think he was hurt by a dwarf?” 

“It would explain his lack of trust and insistence that he doesn’t need our help.”

“Then why’d he agree to come with us in the first place?” 

“He said he would only come if I personally asked him. And the wizard was very insistent.” Thorin shrugged. 

“So ye asked ‘im?”

“I did, before turning in for the night. He seemed . . . willing. Perhaps he felt the bond as well.”

“But he doesn’t acknowledge ye?”

“He may not have realized what it was. One’s are a dwarven concept, there’s no reason to expect him to realize he could have one.”

Dwalin nodded contemplatively. “Well, ye better get workin’ to earn his trust then 'cause the sooner everyone knows he’s yours the better.” 

“I know. I’m trying.” Thorin sighed. The whole predicament was exhausting. 

“A’ight. I’ll watch over yer wee hobbit. . . .” Dwalin’s lips quirked up knowingly. “So, ye like what ye got then?” He waggled his eyebrows 

“Shut up. You already know the answer to that. He’s my One.”

“Aye. Always knew ye had a thing for cute ones. Bet ye can’t wait to explore that.”

“I doubt that’ll be happening anytime soon.” Thorin tried to focus on his problems instead of his fantasies. 

Dwalin smirked, and Thorin punched his arm for the teasing, making his friend snicker. 

“Come on. We should make sure Dinodas doesn’t need any help.” Thorin led the way out of the stables. 

“Aye. Forgot about 'im. Don’t think yer One would run off with ‘im, do ye?” 

Anxiety twisted in Thorin’s stomach at the reminder. “I hope not.”

Dino was gone, and only the man remained, writhing and spasming in agony with the stench of filth emminating from him. Thorin figured the man wouldn’t even register any more torment at that point, and he and Dwalin returned to the inn. 

The others informed him that Dino had returned to his room to be with Bilbo, and they were working their way to their rooms for the night as well. 

Thorin and Dwalin exchanged a final meaningful glance before heading to their rooms to do the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Bilbo convinces Dino to go back to the Shire but not before his cousin extracts a little "payment." Thorin finds his One in a compromising position, but his anger quickly fizzles when he's left the only one available to aid his ailing hobbit.


	13. Early Mornings and Private Talks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! 🥰

“Why are we up so early?” Dino yawned, trudging behind his cousin on the way to the stables. His leather vest and pack rustled against his shoulder. “The dwarves aren’t even awake yet.”

Bilbo shook his head. As if first breakfast was early for a hobbit. But he supposed Dino hadn’t had the advantage of much sleep while he’d been on active patrol. “You need to get an early start if you're going on make it back to the Shire by tonight.”

“What are ya talking about?” Dino was suddenly much more awake. “I’m not going back to the Shire unless you’re coming with me.”

“You’re going back to the Shire, Dino. And I’m going with the dwarrow.” Bilbo slipped into the stables, leaving his cousin to catch up. Stopping to feel and listen, he made sure they had no unwanted company. 

“Uh, no you’re not. Not without me. I ain’t lettin’ ya walk off with them on yer own.” 

“You’re not invited.” Bilbo set his pack and staff next to a nearby feed barrel.

“Right, 'cause that’s gonna stop me,” Dino returned sarcastically. “Why are ya even doin this? You have no love for dwarves.”

Bilbo didn’t have an immediate reply. He wasn’t entirely sure himself. True, he owed Gandalf, and the king had asked him personally, but that still didn’t really warrant him risking his life to burgle from a dragon. It just . . . felt right--like it was something he needed to do. He sighed. If he didn’t understand it, Dino certainly wouldn’t.

“I’m waiting.” Dino dropped his stuff next to Bilbo's. 

“They want their home back. Gandalf thinks they need my help to do it.” It was the best answer Bilbo had. He understood the value of home. 

“What ‘home?’ They’re from the Blue Mountains. You’re going the wrong way.”

“They may _live_ in the Blue Mountains, but they aren’t from there. King Thorin is the heir of Erebor.” 

“‘King’ Thorin? Wait. Erebor? The same Erebor that’s infested by a bloody Dragon?” Dino shouted. The Bounders were more well versed in world affairs than most hobbits. 

“The same.” Bilbo slipped into the stall with the pony that was meant to be his. It’s not like he didn’t like the beasts. He just needed his feet on the ground. Rubbing her nose, he slipped her a treat before feeling around for a brush to give her coat some attention. 

“You can’t be bloody serious, Bo!” Dino’s voice came from the stall entrance. “With fourteen people? That’s a bloody suicide mission! What exactly are they expecting you to do?”

“It doesn’t matter. Gandalf thinks they have a chance with my help.” If Bilbo revealed they wanted him to sneak in under the dragon’s nose and steal something, Dino would never let him leave--certainly not alone.

“That blasted wizard’s off his rocker!” Dino vented and paced around in a little circle. He stopped. “Wait. They aren’t sending ya to slay a bloody dragon, are they?”

“What?” Bilbo almost laughed. He wasn’t _that_ good. “Of course not. Really, Dino? Who in their right mind would hire a hobbit to slay a dragon?”

“I dunno! Who in their right mind would hire a hobbit to do anything involving a dragon? And, if they aren’t asking ya to do something dangerous, then why won’t ya let me come? You think I can’t handle myself?”

“No, of course not.” If Bilbo were being honest, he'd admit it would be a huge relief to have Dino by his side. To have that connection--that skinship--he wouldn’t feel nearly so vulnerable around the dwarrow. He could always trust Dino. But he couldn’t risk losing him. There was a good chance he wouldn’t survive this crazy quest. He couldn’t let Dino meet the same fate.

“Then why?” Dino stepped further into the stall. 

“Because I need you to go back to Hobbiton.” Bilbo steadied his voice. It hurt to send his best friend away. The one person he had allowed himself to depend on. “I need you to deliver the letters I wrote and make sure they don’t try to have my inheritance stripped from me.”

“Someone else can do that!” Dino stopped by his side. 

“No. I need someone I can trust. I don’t trust my uncle to honor my wishes once he realizes I’ll be gone longer than a few days. Hamfest will do what he can, but he has no authority beyond what I’ve granted him, and my uncle can veto even that as manager of my affairs.” 

“What am _I_ supposed to do? I’ve got no legal bearing in this! I’m just a bounder!”

“No. Only you can do this for me. You are . . ." Bilbo swallowed thickly. “You are so much more than that. I’ve listed you as my sole representative and beneficiary in my living will should I become unable to speak for myself. That includes in my absence. And, if I am unable to return for whatever reason, everything that is not inherently tied to the Master title will go to you. I updated my will before I left. Hamfest should have already delivered copies to the mayor and Thain.”

Dino had gone silent, and Bilbo could feel him staring. “Bo . . . why would you do that? You know I don’t want your stuff.”

“Because I can _trust_ you! In all of the Shire, the only one besides my parents who never let my blindness affect how they treated me was you. The only one I could truly be myself around was you. You don’t know how much that means to me.” He tossed the brush aside, giving up on grooming the pony. “I know you would fight for me if I wasn’t there. And I know you’d make sure my estate goes to someone I’d approve of if you didn’t want to keep it for yourself, which you’re more than welcome to do, you know.” 

Dino shuffled his feet, and Bilbo gave him some space to think. “I should stay and protect you.” He mumbled, clearly at war with himself. 

“I can protect myself out here.” Bilbo reached out and found his arm. “Out here, I can actually be myself. I can’t do that there. I need you to protect me in the Shire. Protect my home, so I have something to come back to.”

“You’re bloody infuriating when you make sense, you know that?” Dino sniffed. “I hate missing it--seeing you be yourself. I love you most when you just relax and be you. . . Not the you Hobbiton as forced you to be.” Fabric ruffled as he crossed his arms.

“That’s what I love about you most.” Bilbo smiled softly. “You don’t just allow me to be me. You encourage it.”

Dino sucked in a deep breath and sighed. “Fine. I’ll do this for you. But you owe me. When ya get back, we’re going to be taking a lot of walking holidays.”

Bilbo huffed a laugh and nodded. “I’d like that.”

“I’m gonna miss you, Bo.” Dino pulled him closer, cupping his jaw with his hands and leaning down to rub their noses together.”

Bilbo gripped his forearms and returned the nuzzle, soaking up the affection of one of the few people he could stand to be touched by. “I’ll miss you too.”

“I love you,” Dino whispered. “My proposal’s always open if ya change yer mind.”

“Dino-mmff!” Before he could reply, Dino’s mouth crashed into his. He tried to pull away, but Dino had more raw strength and had a hold of either side of his head. Staggering, Bilbo was overwhelmed by the unexpected sensations. Dino guided him until Bilbo’s back hit the wall of the stall. 

“Dino!” Bilbo tried to protest but only succeeded in making way for Dino’s tongue. Whimpering, his mind grew fuzzy. Dino pressed against him, one hand trailing down Bilbo’s slender neck while he continued to command his mouth. 

It was too much. Bilbo was unprepared and sorely out of practice. He couldn’t focus or build up the strength to resist. He gasped for air, desperately clinging to consciousness. 

_~Thorin~_

Thorin woke well before the others. Partly out of habit and partly from unease about his One sharing a room with someone else--someone who seemed very likely to take advantage of the privacy. Stepping outside his room, he shut the door quietly to not wake his nephews just yet. They should take advantage of the beds even if he couldn’t.

He wandered down the hall and stood outside the hobbits’ room to listen. There was nothing but silence, so he headed down stairs to get something to eat. Jumping onto one of the bar stools at the counter, he ordered some breakfast.

A few minutes later, a woman brought out his meal. “All kinds of early birds this morning. After last night, didn’t expect to see anyone up this early.” She commented off-handedly. 

Thorin glanced around. The room was empty. “What do you mean?”

“Before you, there were two hobbits down for breakfast. Just ate and left. Already handed in their room key.”

Two hobbits? Bilbo and Dino? Panic welled in his chest. Where they leaving? Had Dinodas convinced Bilbo to return to the Shire? To marry him? “Do you know who they were?” He struggled to keep his voice even.

“It’d be hard to mistake them, considering they were the life of the party last night.”

Thorin cursed under his breath. Maybe if he caught them, he could change Bilbo’s mind. The woman continued talking about something or other, but Thorin was on his feet and racing out the door--food and conversation forgotten. 

He stopped outside, not sure where to go from there. They didn’t have ponies. They could already be on the road by now. Growling in frustration, he took off toward the stables on the off chance that they weren’t already heading back to the Shire. 

Pausing at the entrance, he caught his breath and looked for any sign of his hobbit. He didn’t see anyone, and his stomach dropped. Where they already gone? Could he catch them? What would he even say if he did? How would he explain himself to a hobbit he meant nothing to?

“Dino!” A soft cry came from somewhere inside the stables, keeping him from running down the road like a the desperate dwarf he was. He walked in further and scanned the area again. This time he noticed that one of the stalls was cracked open. 

Hurrying to it, he tried to compose himself. His One was still here. Bilbo hadn’t left. He reassured himself and tried to calm his racing heart. Unfortunately, the scene he came upon did nothing to help, and his fear transformed into rage. 

Dinodas had Master Baggins pinned to the stall wall, plundering his mouth with abandon . . . and Bilbo was doing nothing to stop him. Clenching his fists, Thorin summoned every once of self-control he had to keep himself from pummeling the offending hobbit into a bloody, pulpy mess. 

They didn’t show any sign of stopping, and Thorin couldn’t take It any longer. He was going to bloody kill someone at this rate. He smacked the stall door hard, sending it swinging and slamming into the outer stall walls with a loud bang. Only then did the hobbits detach from each other. 

Dino straightened and cleared his throat, wiping his mouth. “Consider that my, uh, payment for delivering yer letters,” he said a little breathlessly as he smoothed his tunic. “Don’t forget my offer, Bo.” He swooped in to place one more kiss to the corner of Bilbo’s mouth. 

Bilbo gave a jerky nod but seemed too dazed to reply. 

Thorin stepped aside, crossing his arms to avoid wringing the invasive hobbit’s neck as Dino walked by and out of the stall. He didn’t bother suppress his glares, though. 

Dino stopped, returning the hostile look. “Anything happens to him, I’m coming for yer ass,” he warned darkly before calling over his shoulder. “I’ll grab yer letters on my way out. Be careful, Bo.” Stopping to grab his pack, he collected the bundle of letters and left the stable.

Thorin watched him leave, his glower never ceasing until the hobbit was well out of sight. Turning back to his One, his anger was still too great to even approach his other half. 

Stumbling through the hay, Bilbo stretched out his arms, searching for the stall exit. He was breathing hard seemed to be having trouble navigating.

Thorin was quickly getting the sense that something was wrong. His anger ebbed to a manageable simmer as he watched his One stagger out of the stall. Bracing a hand on the wall, Bilbo seemed to be relying on it far more than he should. 

“Are you all-“ 

Thorin cut off when Bilbo startled violently, collapsing to the ground and covering his ears. He rushed over as the hobbit continued to crawl along the wall. When Thorin tried to help, Bilbo recoiled from his touch, curling into a ball with his back to the wall and rocking himself.

His panic returning, Thorin looked around and spotted Bilbo’s pack and armor. He rushed over and dug through pockets until he found what he was looking for--a wooden egg. Twisting it experimentally, he returned to his ailing hobbit. On his second try, it popped open. He pulled the string and the little metal discs inside began to spin, producing a soft hum. 

Within moments, Bilbo’s agitated motions stopped. Thorin held it close to his One's head. He wasn't sure how or why it worked, only that it did. Pulling the string every time it was almost finished, he kept it going steady. 

After a couple minutes, Bilbo uncurled and took the little device off the dwarf's hand. He kept it spinning, holding it close his face, and slowly relaxed. Finally, he heaved a sigh and snapped it shut, leaning back against the wall in silence. 

With his anger cooled and his hobbit recovered, Thorin reassessed what he'd found. He studied his One in the silence. If Bilbo truly wished to be with someone else, . . . Thorin had no business stopping him. It made his chest ache, but he couldn’t force his One to return his desire. With time, he hoped to develop their bond, but if Bilbo’s heart already belonged to another, he had little chance anyway. “If you love him, you should go with him.”The the words ripped at his soul like shards of glass. 

“Stop.” Bilbo lifted a hand. Leaning forward, he buried his face in his arms. “I do love him.”

Something cracked in Thorin’s chest. It was probably his heart.

“Like a brother,” Bilbo added softly, and Thorin’s hope blossomed renewed. “If I stay, I’ll give him what he wants, . . . but not for the right reasons.” He covered his eyes with a hand, dropping his other. “He deserves better. It’s best if we’re apart for awhile.” A single tear appeared from under his hand, running lazily over his cheek.

On the one hand, overwhelming relief washed over Thorin. He had come so close to losing his One to someone else. On the other, he felt guilty for his misplaced anger amidst Bilbo’s emotional turmoil. “He would . . . be lucky to have you . . . whatever the reason.” 

“He would be luckier to have nothing more to do with me.”

Thorin had no reply, so he stayed silent. Bilbo sniffled and wiped his eyes with his sleeve before rubbing his face. Sighing, he seemed to compose himself. “Thank you.” Thorin’s head snapped up at the acknowledgment. “For the buzzer.” 

“Of course,” Thorin returned, pleased to get something other than the stubbornly independent response he was expecting. “He shouldn't have left you like that. Or forced his affections on you,” he groused lightly. 

Bilbo laughed weakly, rubbing a hand over his lips. “He was making a point. I guess I can’t blame him for being frustrated. I’ve been ignoring his advances for years. I always suspected. I just didn’t want to ruin what we had. I was selfish.”

“You have every right to be. You don’t have to accept someone just because they want you. That’s not fair to you.”

“I could have said something.”

“And he could have taken a hint.” 

Bilbo hummed thoughtfully. “Reminds me of a dwarf I’ve met recently.” He smirked slightly. 

“I . . .“ Thorin floundered, unsure if he was being teased or rebuked.

“It’s fine.” Bilbo spared him. “You helped me out this time, just don’t make a habit of it. You’re not responsible for me just because I’m coming with you, you know. I didn’t even sign your contract.”

“You are a part of our company. I will look after you as I would any of the others.” As if that was Thorin's only motivation. Bilbo was part of him, of course he was responsible for him!

“Yeah, well, do me a favor and treat me like one of your not-blind members, would you? I don’t need your special treatment.” Bilbo pushed off the wall and stood. 

“I will try.” That was all Thorin could promise. Even if his One wasn’t blind, he would likely end up hovering protectively. Bilbo was still just a hobbit. 

Shaking his head, Bilbo didn't seem particularly pleased with the answer. “And . . . sorry about the drama . . with Dino.”

Thorin laughed. It was the last thing he was expecting to hear. “Don’t worry about it. The company gossips like a bunch of old dams. They’re probably already making bets about your love life.”

“Oh, well then, your welcome for some free entertainment, I guess.” Bilbo flapped his arms in annoyance. 

“You’ll get used to it. They take bets on everything. I believe Kili has even wagered that you aren’t really blind and just faking it for some reason.”

“Really?” Bilbo snorted as he picked up his leathers. “And why would I do that?”

“To make people drop their guard or something like that.”

“Right.” Bilbo nodded as he slipped on his vest. “I’m sure that’s what it is.” He rolled his unseeing eyes. “Well, if you’d like to get in on that bet, I can assure you my eyes most definitely do not work.”

“Thanks.” Thorin chuckled, watching his One slip his leather on with no problem. There was silence while Bilbo focused on getting his armor and weapons situated. 

“I assume you came out here because you're ready to go. Where are your bags?” Bilbo asked as he finished up. 

“I . . . left them for Fili and Kili to grab."

“And you rushed out here to . . ."

“Check on the ponies,” Thorin made up on the spot, remembering that he hadn't even touched his breakfast. He couldn’t very well go back for it now. Then he’d have to explain why he came running out to the stables in such a hurry. Oh well, he would survive without one meal. 

“Ah.” Bilbo didn’t sound entirely convinced. “Well then, since we’re out here, we might as well get them ready.” He grabbed a bucket sitting on the feed barrel and tossed it without warning. Thorin caught it reflexively. “You feed while I brush. Then we’ll get their saddles on.”

Thorin narrowed his eyes. “I thought you didn’t like ponies." 

“I don’t _ride_ ponies. Doesn’t mean I don’t know how to take care of them.” Bilbo slipped into the open stall where Thorin had found him.

Thorin raised a brow and huffed before getting to work like he’d been told. His One was full of surprises. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Thorin gets a little more one-on-one time with his One (mostly) before the company is on the move again. Later, Bilbo starts breaking the ice with the company healer.


	14. Winning Bets and Medicinal Herbs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! 🥰

Thorin fed and watered each pony, and Bilbo followed, giving each one a quick brush down. He’d groom and praise them until they finished eating before putting them on a lead and tying them outside their stalls to be saddled. 

By the time Thorin was done feeding, the first couple were out and waiting. Working together they made good time getting the ponies ready, and Thorin privately appreciated that they would be getting a much earlier start than usual. He would, perhaps, have gotten his own tasks done faster if he wasn’t also busy watching his hobbit coo at the beasts. 

If the pony was already done eating by the time Bilbo got to it, he would lead it out of the stall first before brushing it down, giving Thorin a better view of the proceedings. None of the ponies were especially temperamental, yet they all seemed more subdued around the hobbit, gentler even as they frequently nudged at him for attention. 

Currently, Bilbo was taking care of Thorin’s pony, which was, admittedly, one of the most troublesome. He was combing out its mane when the pony twisted her head around and gave him a firm shove, nearly knocking the hobbit off his feet. 

”Goodness! Aren’t you demanding.” Bilbo pushed her face away, but the distance was short lived. “You are persistent,” he chuckled as the pony continued to nudge at him. “All right, all right.” He gave up his task and walked around to give the pony some attention, petting her face and murmuring softly. 

Thorin had never seen his pony so affectionate. She barely tolerated him, certainly never sought his affection. 

“What? You want this? All right.” Bilbo pulled something out of one of his pouches and surrendered the unidentified treat. “But don’t tell your master, he’ll think I’m spoiling you.” He smirked, not bothering to speak quietly enough so Thorin couldn’t hear.

Huffing in mock offense, Thorin was instantly alert when a soft giggle escaped the hobbit. He had to remind himself to close his mouth. It was . . . the most adorable sound he'd ever heard. 

Bilbo leaned his head against the pony’s long face and continued to shower it with affection. The beast uncharacteristically soaked it up. Thorin fought the impulse to be jealous. It was a bloody pony for Mahal’s sake! . . . Was he really wishing to trade places with a bloody pony? He glanced at them again. Yeah, maybe a little. He wouldn’t mind getting his beard stroked like that while just being in each other’s space. Damn lucky pony.

“Is everything all right?” Bilbo wondered casually, finally returning to his task. 

”Aye. . . . Why?” Thorin returned suspiciously. 

”You sounded . . . disgruntled.” 

Was the hobbit a bloody mind reader? “No . . . The saddle was heavy.” Thorin covered, just in case he had been grumbling out loud and hadn’t noticed.

”Mm-hm.” Bilbo was clearly unconvinced. But he didn’t call Thorin out, so they resumed their work in silence. 

By the time the company finally trudged into to the stables, almost all the ponies were saddled and ready. 

”Uncle! You left all your bags!” Kili complained and dropped the sacks.

”How long have you been out here?” Fili took in all the prepared ponies. 

”A while.” Bilbo led a pony to the front of the stable.

”I thought you didn’t like ponies?” Kili asked perplexed. 

”I never said that.” 

”Oh.”

”Oi!” Dwalin marched straight to his cousin to give him a hard shove.

”What?” Thorin responded defensively. 

”Ye just disappear from yer rooms! Didn't know where ye were! Disappearin’ with the halfling! I nearly knocked a few doors down!”

”I wasn’t far. Did you even think to check the stables?” 

”Since when da ye go on ahead alone? Let the brats take care of this kind o’ stuff!” Dwalin challenged, the princes squawking protests both at the term and the work. 

”I wanted to get an early start.” Thorin tried to deflect, grabbing his pack and loading it onto his pony as the others trickled in to find their own steeds. 

Dwalin studied him unconvinced. “And ye just happen to choose only the halfling ta help ye?”

”It’s ‘hobbit’ to you, Master Dwalin, and I’m afraid you’ve got it backwards. I was here first. He joined me and offered to help,” Bilbo corrected. At least he didn’t tell them he had all but ordered their king to get to work. Thank Mahal for small mercies . . . or small merciful hobbits. 

”Aye?” Dwalin sounded far too intrigued and raised a knowing brow at his king. Thorin glared at the far too pleased smirk, silently warning him not to take it any farther. The gruff dwarf burst out laughing at the reproach and slapped his cousin hard on the back. “Good for ye.” He leaned in to whisper. 

Thorin rolled his eyes. He hadn’t really achieved anything worth congratulating. 

”Ye gonna ride this time, short stuff?” Dwalin's loud voice carried through the stables. 

”Sh-short stuff?” Bilbo spluttered indignantly. “Why I’ve never-- H-how rude! No! My feet stay on the ground!”

”Suit yerself,” Dwalin chuckled, both at the hobbit’s response, and his cousin’s mortified look.

Thorin groaned inwardly. This was why he didn’t want everyone to know. To Dwalin, the hobbit was already family. But Bilbo wouldn’t understand the familiarity. 

”Hey, where’s Dino?” Kili searched around for the other hobbit. 

”I sent him back to the Shire,” Bilbo replied blandly. 

”And he went?” Fili huffed. “He didn’t seem like he was planning to leave your side any time soon.” He cursed under his breath. “I was sure he’d be joining us.”

”Ha! Pay up!” Nori celebrated. 

”Wait! Are you sure he’s not gonna join us later?” Fili insisted. 

”He’s not coming,” Bilbo answered with finality. 

Fili groaned and several money bags flew around the stables. “I was sure he’d be coming! How’d you get him to go back?”

”I can be very convincing.” Bilbo's voice was dull and uninterested. Thorin doubted he really wanted to talk about his little encounter that morning. 

”Well, don’t leave us in suspense! Did ya agree to marry him?” Bofur pressed, several ears perking up for the answer.

”Of course, not. That would be cruel. I don’t even know if I’ll make it back from this suicide mission of yours,” Bilbo answered.

Bofur took off his hat and cheered. “You heard him boys! Pay up!” He demanded using his hat to catch the money being thrown his way. There was an increase of groans and complaints. 

“Why not?” Kili pried shamelessly. 

”Not that we’re complaining.” Fili smacked his brother. 

”That’s right. Still leaves ya the most eligible bachelor in the company.” Bofur twisted his mustache.

”I highly doubt that. And I don’t need a reason to not marry someone.” 

”No, no. Course not,” Bofur agreed a little too cheerfully. 

”It’s a shame,” Gloin interjected. “That Dino fellow would have been a lot more useful. Should o' offered him the contract, if ya ask me.” 

”No one asked ye!” Oin shouted, reducing any further complaints to an inaudible grumble.

Thorin glanced at his One, but, other than looking distant and sober, the hobbit showed no indication of being offended. 

With their packs loaded, the dwarrow guided their ponies out of the stable. Thorin lingered to keep an eye on his One as the hobbit slipped on his pack and ventured farther into the stable before returning with Gandalf’s horse. The beast towered over him, but, like the ponies, seemed calm in Bilbo's care. Despite the fact that it could have trampled the hobbit--even accidentally--so easily, it followed carefully, minding the small hobbit. 

Thorin waited for Bilbo to catch up, and they left the stable together. The dwarrow were all mounting when the wizard finally reappeared. 

”Where have you been?” Thorin demanded. He hoped this wasn’t going to be a recurring theme. 

”I had business to attend to.” Gandalf waved away the question. “Ah, thank you, Bilbo.” He took his horse’s lead off the hobbit’s hands. 

”You were looking for a new pipe, weren’t you?” Bilbo asked candidly. 

”What? No! Of course not!” the wizard blustered. “I had . . . legitimate . . . business . . . Oh, all right! Yes, I was looking for a new pipe!” He gave in under the hobbit's sightless stare.

”Did you find one?”

”No! That one was specially made, you know! I would very much like it back!”

”Good.” Bilbo ignored the demand. “It’d only create more work for me if I had to keep stealing them off you. I already have my hands full with Nori.”

Gandalf huffed and started muttering complaints about hobbit burglars. Bilbo continued to ignore him. 

Thorin chuckled before realizing his One must have something of his as well. Strange, he hadn’t noticed anything missing. He didn’t spare it much thought. “Let’s move!” he ordered, and they turned their ponies toward the gate out of town. 

Bilbo walked along side as before with walking stick in hand, keeping out of the way of the ponies. They made good time, getting the extra early start that they did, and the day passed without any significant events. Bilbo returned to his quiet, distant mood, despite the chatter going on around him and, often, about him. 

Thorin kept an eye on him throughout the day, but the hobbit didn’t seem to be having any problems with keeping up and didn’t seem particularly interested with interacting with anyone. He wondered at the change in mood. Bilbo had been more open, more engaging, even teasing, earlier that morning. It didn’t seem that he inherently _disliked_ dwarrow, or even Thorin, perhaps it was being in a company of them that made him uneasy? Then again, all the comments being made about Dinodas and how someone wished he had joined them or been the one Gandalf had chosen probably weren’t helping. 

Unable to silence them without looking invested, Thorin had no choice but to allowed it. Besides, he couldn’t argue that Dinodas was far more qualified for their quest. Being a bounder and proficient in a variety of (admittedly strange) weapons combined with his experience with stealth and surprise attacks made him a far more eligible candidate for their task. Even in size and build he was more suited. Poor Master Baggins looked like he’d get swept away with a good, strong wind. 

Not that Thorin would have traded them. Regardless of his aptitude, Bilbo was his One. Thorin wanted him along to keep him close, not because he actually expected him to provide any significant contribution. Not that he thought his hobbit useless either. He was obviously far more capable than any of them had expected upon first learning of his handicap. But he was still blind, and an orc warrior was very different from some drunken fool, not to even consider a whole pack of them. 

He wondered again why Gandalf had been so insistent on Bilbo being their final member if there were capable hobbits like Dinodas. Even if he was supposedly a professional burglar, why drag a soft, comfortable, blind hobbit out into the wilds when there were field experienced (and field ready) hobbits to choose from. Seeing as he excelled in stealth combat, Thorin suspected Dinodas could have pulled of a burglary or two just fine. 

Glancing back, Thorin checked on his One again. It made him nervous not to have him in constant sight. But Bilbo was still there and getting along just fine. Thorin hadn’t seen him so much as trip even once.

The company stopped as the sun went down, finding a clear spot along the road to make camp. Bilbo stood around as Thorin barked orders, and everyone got to work.

”Well,” Baggins began as he set down his pack, “since it seems I’m unneeded, I think I’ll snoop around the area.”

”Master Baggins, aid Bombur with dinner.” Thorin ordered, hoping to both keep his hobbit in camp and make him feel like he wasn’t completely unwanted. He should have known it wasn’t going to be that simple. 

”No, I don’t think I will.” Bilbo brushed off the command easily. “Bombur seems quite capable without my help. I wouldn’t wish to intrude. I’ll be back before the food’s done.” He waved and started walking away. 

Thorin cursed under his breath. Why did his One have to be so difficult? He looked about for Nori, but the thief must have already taken off to find firewood or something less constructive than keeping track of the hobbit. He cursed again. He couldn’t just go after Bilbo himself, and Dwalin was far from stealthy. 

Before he could come up with a solution, the hobbit was gone. He rubbed a hand over his face. This hobbit was going to give him an anxiety attack. The minutes ticked by, and he spent most of the time tensely watching the edges of their camp for the return of his One.

Finally, just as Bombur declared dinner done, Bilbo ambled back into their midst. Thorin heaved a sigh of relief, seeing that his One was unscathed. A double take piqued his interest. Bilbo had several small bushels of weeds in his hands or tied to his belt. Thorin studied them curiously. 

Bilbo wandered straight to Oin, taking a seat on the ground next to him.

”Master Baggins,” the healer greeted amiably. 

”Thank you for last night. I thought I should help replace some of the medicine I used up. I found a few good medicinal herbs while I was out walking. Are any of these something you would use? I’m afraid I’m not overly familiar with dwarf medicine.”

His brow rising in interest, Oin took and examined the first bundle. “This is quite a bit. Ye found all these just now?” He almost sounded impressed. 

Bilbo nodded. “My mother was an herbalist. She taught me what to look for. I found a few good patches. Do dwarrow use these as well?”

”Aye, thank ye. Ye saved me a lot o' work. This one’s real tough ta find since it looks so much like other plants and expensive ta buy. How’d ya find it so easily?”

Bilbo picked a leaf from the bundle and rubbed it between his fingers. “I don’t ‘look’ for it.” He held the leaf to his nose. “It has a unique smell. Many herbs do.”

”Oh, aye?” Oin was definitely impressed. “Can’t say I can tell much difference between 'em, so I’ll take yer word for it. Feel free to pick any herbs ye find. Can always sell ‘em if we get too many. Medicinal herbs sell fer a good price.”

”I'd be happy too. It’ll give me something to do,” Bilbo added quietly, setting his stick aside and making himself more comfortable. 

”How’s yer back? Givin’ ye any trouble?” Oin studied the sightless hobbit. 

”Sore. A bit stiff, but nothing beyond what I expected. The cream helped a lot. Thank you.”

”Aye. Got more if ye need it.”

Bilbo shook his head. “They’re just bruises, save it for something more important.”

”It’s made for bruises. On a scale, I’d hardly call those insignificant. Won’t see a bruise that dark on many dwarrow.”

”I’d hate to waste your medicine.”

”It ain’t a waste of it’s bein’ used for what it’s made for.”

“Ah, but I . . . have no way to apply it.” Bilbo continued to dodge, looking like he was starting to regret sticking around the healer. “I can’t very well see what what I’m doing.”

”I’ll apply it for ye. Take off that vest,” Oin ordered, pulling a jar from his pack. 

”Uh, no, thank you.” Bilbo stood, looking ready to run if necessary. “I, uh, I don’t really like being touched.”

”Aye, I noticed. Doesn’t mean ye should go without proper wound treatment.”

”It’s hardly a wound, Master Oin. They're just bruises.”

”Just call me Oin. And it’s a wound if it hinders your normal functionality,” Oin chided. “It don’t need ta be me. But ye should treat it.” He held out the jar. 

Bilbo twisted his stick in his hands as he hesitated. “All right,” he conceded softly taking the jar. 

Watching the hobbit like a hawk, Thorin waited to see who Bilbo would ask to aid him. He shouldn’t have been surprised when Bilbo ambled over to the wizard. 

”Bilbo,” Gandalf greeted less than enthusiastically. 

”Could you . . . Would you give me a hand with this?” Bilbo asked hesitantly. 

Gandalf hummed. “I suppose I could. I am a wizard of many skills, after all.”

There was a tense silence, and Bilbo crossed his arms. “I’ll give you your bloody pipe back.”

”Of course! I’d be happy to help you, my friend!” Gandalf chuckled with excessive friendliness. 

“There always has to be something in it for you, doesn’t there?” Bilbo shook his head, peeling off his belt and vest so he could lift his tunic. 

”Only when there is something of mine to be gained.” Gandalf took the jar and inspected it. “What exactly am I doing for you?”

”There was a bar fight,” Bilbo barely explained, slipping his tunic over his head without slipping his arms out. 

Thorin may have been staring far too intently, but everyone else was too distracted by the same scene to notice. Bilbo's back and belly were as hairless as his face and not nearly as soft as any of them had expected. Fine muscle lines could be seen despite the barest bulge of a belly compared to the girths of most hobbits. Thorin very much wanted to explore more. Wandering casually, he inched closer to get a better view of his One’s back and see the damage for himself. 

”Goodness! It isn’t like you to let someone get the drop on you.” Gandalf cringed at the mess of black and blues. 

”Yes, well, alcohol does wonders for reducing my sensitivity--to good and bad,” Bilbo retorted, murmuring the last bit. 

”This is quite the assortment of bruises you’ve acquired.” Gandalf muttered as he rubbed the soothing cream over them. Thorin’s eyes widened in rage as huge dark patches came into his view. He should have killed that piece of filth in the alley!

”Yeah, well, you should have seen the other guy,” Bilbo said through clenched teeth.

Thorin was almost startled into a laugh. Bilbo wasn’t even kidding. Thorin was pretty sure the other guy came out with a concussion, black eye, broken nose, and some missing teeth, at least. And that was before Dinodas got to him.

“Well, perhaps no more alcohol during the quest.” Gandalf closed the jar and handed it back after Bilbo slipped on his tunic. 

”Only if you promise to avoid rowdy groups of people.” 

”Now, Bilbo. You know I can’t promise such a thing.”

”Well, then. Neither can I.” Bilbo walked over to return the jar to Oin before rummaging through his pack. Gandalf barely caught the pipe flying through the air before it smacked him in the face. “Pleasure doing business with you, old man,” Bilbo grumbled. 

Gandalf made a pleased sound upon inspecting his prize and laughed, sparing no time In digging for his pipeweed pouch. “Bilbo Baggins!” he barked when he came up empty. 

Bilbo grinned unrepentantly. “I said I’d give you your pipe back, not your pipeweed.”

The wizard’s mood plummeted again, and he spluttered curses about sticky fingered hobbits.

Joined the laughter, Thorin added a chuckle of his own. His One seemed formidable enough as a burglar at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Bilbo seems to be opening up to the company healer, not that it helps Thorin's situation much. Thorin finds out they're being followed just in time for his One to disappear.


	15. Herbs and Ambushes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! 😁

The next couple days passed without incident. Master Baggins continued to insist on traveling by foot and stayed much to himself during the day. Every evening he would go for a walk and return as dinner was being served to deliver his findings to Oin. 

He seemed to get on quite well with the healer and would often spend his evenings discussing different herbs, their identifying traits, and their uses. Despite his usually reserved nature, the old healer seemed genuinely interested in their conversations as Bilbo proved well versed in medicinal plants. Oin could occasionally be herd exclaiming his surprise after hearing the different ways hobbits used the herbs.

”But nightshade’s poisonous!” Oin refuted loudly amidst their current conversation. 

”To most, yes, but hobbits are very attuned to nature and thereby resistant to most of its toxins. Most plants that are deadly to other races have minor effects on us, effects that are often usable for the relief of certain ailments,” Bilbo explained. 

”Ye mean yer immune?!” Oin asked in disbelief. “All of ye?!” 

”Yes, all of us, to most toxins. There are . . . a few exceptions, but, I’m sure you’ll understand if I don’t reveal them. But, most poisons have little affect on us.”

”Remind me never to get treated by a hobbit,” Fili murmured, having been listening in on the conversation. 

”I would certainly advise caution if you were to ever have the need to seek hobbit medicine. We don’t all realize how susceptible other races are.” 

”Are you saying they don’t realize the plants are poisonous to other races?” Ori asked timidly, his ever present notebook in hand. 

”Basically. Hobbits, most hobbits, don’t really associated with outsiders much, aside from the occasional man or dwarf that passes through the Shire, and they’re quite happy to leave alone and be left alone. Most pointedly avoid learning too much about the outside. They prefer their own preconceived prejudices to reality. They know little about other races, and they prefer it that way.”

”I wouldn’t recommend you go wandering through any hobbit gardens either,” Bilbo added with a barely there smirk. “There are whole gardens full of nothing by poisonous plants. You may not make it out alive. Most hobbits don’t even realize their plants could actually hurt someone.”

”But some of ye sure do,” Dwalin grunted.

”Oh, of course,” Bilbo agreed pleasantly. “The bounders excel in using poisons. They’re the experts really. Different poisons affect different races differently. They make it their business to know those differences.”

Some of the dwarrow exchanges looks. 

”You said you aren’t a bounder, right?” Kili ventured. “So, how come you know all this stuff?”

Bilbo raised a brow at the question. “Just because I’m not qualified to be a bounder, doesn’t mean I wasn’t interested in them. Besides, I’ve spent a good deal of time in Bree and with . . . other races. I may have had to settle down in Hobbiton, but I’ve made a point of catching up on the happenings of the world at large.”

”They wouldn’t let you be a bounder?”

“Obviously.” Bilbo waved the handle of his stick in front of his eyes. “Even if I wasn’t a Master, there’s no way they’d allow a blind hobbit in their ranks.”

”But . . . you have all the gear?” Fili pointed out. 

”It’s privately made, not bounder issued.” Bilbo fiddled with his leather arm piece. “Technically, I shouldn’t have it. I could get in some trouble for even owning them. But I was interested, and Dino was enthusiastic.”

”It don’t bother him none that ye have them, obviously,” Dwalin interjected. “Shouldn’t he more concerned with protectin’ ye instead of suitin’ ye up for battle?”

”Dino knows me better than most. He knows I don’t need his protection.” Bilbo answered coldly. Grabbing his stick, he stood. I think I’ll go for a walk.” 

”What? It’s pitch black out tonight!” Kili tried to caution. "There's not even a moon!" 

”I should feel right at home then.” Bilbo wandered into the blackness. 

”Oh yeah,” Kili mumbled before receiving a hard jab from his brother. “Ow!” He pushed back and they devolved into a scuffle. 

”That’s enough!” Thorin put an end to it. “Turn in for the night. We still have a long way to go.” The company shuffled about, settling in for the night. He volunteered first watch. He would be too uneasy to to sleep until his hobbit returned. 

The next day passed as usual except that Master Baggins seemed extra quiet and was slowly drifting towards the back of the line. Thorin continued to send back glances until it became far to obvious he was keeping tabs on the hobbit. He sent Dwalin a meaningful look, and the gruff warrior fell back to keep watch from the rear. 

By the end of the day, Bilbo was bringing up the rear, with Dwalin only a few steps ahead to keep track of him. 

”We’ll stop here for the night!” Thorin announced, turning to seek out his One as he guided the line off the road. 

Dwalin looked annoyed at having to keep pace with the slow hobbit for the past couple hours and sent a disgruntled ‘you owe me’ look when he finally passed by. 

”Are you tired, Master Baggins?” Thorin rumbled. He wouldn’t be surprised if the hobbit’s sturdy feet were finally wearing out from all the walking. “Perhaps a pony for tomorrow--“ 

”No.” Bilbo cut him off. “My feet are fine, thank you.” He walked past toward where the others were already starting to make camp.

Thorin followed unconvinced. He knew how stubborn the hobbit was.

As the evening drew on, Thorin got the feeling that something was off. Bilbo didn’t go for his customary walk. He sought out Oin for a brief conversation, where Thorin noted he seemed to return something. Oin's horn? Had the bloody burglar swiped Oin's ear horn? Thorin didn't know if he wanted to be impressed or offended that a handicapped hobbit would steal something so important to another's handicap. Still, Oin didn't seem concerned in the least and even had a good laugh when the hobbit leaned closer to whisper something.

Feeling (maybe) unjustly jealous, Thorin narrowed his eyes and continued to study the hobbit's movements. Bilbo walked about the camp, occasionally sitting, but never for long. He seemed restless and often fiddled with the stick in his hand. After a full day of walking, shouldn't he be giving his feet some rest?

Thorin kept an eye on him throughout the evening, but little seemed to change, and Bilbo only offered short evasive answers whenever someone was bold enough to question his strange behavior. 

Eventually, he pulled something else out of his pack and delivered it to the wizard. Gandalf’s pleased exclamation seemed to indicate it was his pipe weed, but the return seemed sudden. At least he'd been getting on well with Oin. They had a short, quiet conversation before Bilbo returned to wandering about. 

When Bilbo finally came to a stop, standing at the edge of the camp, Thorin made his move. "Everything all right?” Thorin rumbled, as he circled closely behind the stationary hobbit. He didn’t miss the way his One shuddered. 

“Everything’s fine,” Bilbo returned through clenched teeth. 

”Then why are you acting so . . . different.” Thorin leaned a little closer, and Bilbo’s ear twitched before the hobbit shook himself visibly from whatever affect Thorin’s voice was having. He couldn’t help a small self-satisfied smirk. 

"Whose to say that I am?"

"Several have said it already. You haven't gone for your walk, and you can't seem to sit still."

"I'm standing still right now."

"I'm not leaving without an answer." Thorin leaned in closer, nearly brushing the hobbit's ears with his lips.

With another shudder, Bilbo turned his ear away. He still didn’t reply at first, but, after a few moments, sucked in a deep breath and sighed it out. “We’re being followed.”

”What?” Thorin was instantly at attention, casting his gaze around the edges of their camp. There was a sparse copse of trees on one side that significantly hindered his range. “Are you sure?” 

“Positive. They been following us all day. Trying to catch up, I'd wager.”

"Are you a gambling hobbit, Master Baggins?" Thorin continued to peer out into the darkness around them.

"Only when I know I'll win."

”Why didn’t you tell me?” Thorin rumbled quietly.

”They’ve only been slowly gaining on us through out the day. It could be nothing. But, I'd anticipate more.” Bilbo turned his head toward where Thorin was standing partially in front of him in order to keep his voice as quiet as possible. “I’m only telling you now because, as the leader of this company, you should know about any possible threats. And because, apparently, you won't leave me alone if I don't.”

”Were you planning on telling me if I didn’t ask?” Thorin turned back to his hobbit, the sudden proximity startling him out of his defensive concerns. There were close enough to brush up against each other if either of them wished it, and Bilbo’s jeweled sightless eye’s stared up at him. It wouldn’t take much to lean down and taste those lips. 

“If it became relevant.” Bilbo's words snapped Thorin out of his distraction. 

”’Relevant?’ What’s that supposed to mean?” 

”It may not concern you.” Bilbo stared forward blankly. 

”How would it not concern me?!” Thorin growled. His One’s stubbornness was frustrating. 

“I’ve already spoken to Gandalf. If I am unable to alert you of any danger to the company, he will do so in my stead.”

”What?” Thorin was even more confused.

”If you’ll excuse me, I need to go rest my feet.” Bilbo retreated to finally rest. Wandering over to a stump on the edge of the camp, he sat but kept his feet firmly against the ground.

Thorin growled. How was he supposed to protect his One if Bilbo was keeping important information from him? If there was an imminent threat, he needed to know details! He stomped over to Dwalin, signaling him away from the others. 

“He turn ye down?” Dwalin asked without waiting for an explanation. 

”What?” Thorin was distracted from his initial intent. 

”Saw ye over there. Looked like ye was about to lock lips there for a bit.” Dwalin grinned knowingly. 

”We were just talking.”

“Aye.” Dwalin nodded in mock seriousness. “Must have been talking about some pretty interesting stuff the way ye was watching his lips.”

Thorin glared, choosing not to dignify such a statement with an answer. “He said we’re being followed.”

”What?!” All teasing fell away from the warrior’s countenance. “What makes him think that?”

”I didn’t ask.”

”And ye just believed ‘im?” Dwalin cocked a disbelieving brow.

”Yes,” Thorin responded with a narrowed gaze. 

”Right.” Dwalin pulled him a little farther from the camp. “No offense to yer One . . . but he’s blind. I spent more time than I’d like to remember watchin’ the road behind us because of a certain slow moving halfling. I didn’t see nothing.”

”You think he's mistaken?”

”If we was bein’ followed, I don’t see how he’d be the first to know. We’re trained warriors, Thorin. Our instincts wouldn't let it go unnoticed,” Dwalin reasoned. 

Thorin couldn’t disagree. He hadn’t thought to ask how Bilbo knew and wasn’t sure he would have gotten an answer even if he had as stubborn as the hobbit was. But something in him wouldn’t let him disregard the information completely. “We will keep watch tonight regardless. We would be fools to ignore a warning, even if its source is questionable.”

“Fine,” Dwalin sighed, not looking forward to spending most of the night on watch. 

”You and I will take turns watching tonight.” Thorin walking away before his friend could argue. 

After dinner had been served and bedrolls laid out, the camp grew quiet and still as the dwarrow settled down for the night. Dwalin had volunteered to take first watch and Thorin the second. No one questioned it when no one else was assigned, probably assuming one of them would get an early wake up call to take over. 

Master Baggins was the last to settle in. If you could call it that. Instead of laying out his bed roll, he merely slipped off the stump he had been sitting on to lean against it on the ground. He propped his knees up, keeping his feet pressed into the ground and wrapped his bedroll around him.

Thorin made note of the strange behavior as he and Dwalin settled against a log that had been rolled into camp for seating. After a while, Thorin realized he wasn’t going to be sleeping anytime soon and told Dwalin to get some sleep. The dwarf grunted in confirmation before leaning his head back and letting himself drift off. 

Keeping watch alone in the silence, Thorin studied his One more than anything else really. But his ears were open, and he kept himself aware. As far as he could tell, it seemed like the hobbit was sleeping. Bilbo didn’t move or even fidget, which was rather impressive considering the uncomfortable position he had put himself in. 

The night dragged on slowly, and he was starting to wonder if he had put too much stock in a blind hobbit’s warning. Getting tired, he considered waking Dwalin for his turn at watch. 

A wolf howled in the distance and something rustled behind him. He twisted around, his hand on his hilt and ready to face the enemy. A deer startled with a grunt at his rapid movement and bounded off out of sight. He sighed out his tension. Dwalin was right. How would a blind hobbit know before them if they were being followed? Now he just felt foolish for trusting his One so blindly. 

Turning back to check on his One, he decided that he would wake Dwalin so he could get some rest before the night was over, but Bilbo was gone. His pack was still there by the stump, but there was no hobbit tucked up against it. 

Thorin jumped to his feet in a panic. He’d only looked away for a few seconds! There had been no sound of a scuffle or movement. No sound at all! And now he was just gone! Swatting Dwalin across the chest with his sword, Thorin knocked the warrior awake. 

”What?” Dwalin grunted grumpily. 

”He’s gone!” Thorin whisper yelled. 

”What?!” Dwalin jumped up, joining Thorin in his search. “What da ye mean he’s gone?!”

”I turned away for mere seconds and he disappeared!” Thorin rushed to explain, as he headed straight to where he had last seen his hobbit. 

”He can’t have just disappeared!” 

”He was here, and then he wasn’t! I call that disappearing!”

”Where could he have gone?!” They both scanned the edge of camp, but their sensitive eyes picked up no sign of a hobbit. 

”You could try looking that way,” A third voice suggested. 

They spun on the wizard who peered at them from under his hat. 

”You saw him leave?” Thorin demanded. The wizard only hummed. “And you didn’t stop him?!” 

”I’m afraid I already agreed not to interfere. But, you’re under no obligation.” 

”Why would ye do something as stupid as that?!” Dwalin demanded in disbelief. 

”Bilbo can take care of himself,” Gandalf answered mysteriously. 

Thorin snarled at the inadequate explanation and tugged Dwalin away from any heated words he might have been planning to spew. They could deal with the wizard later, they needed to find his hobbit!

They took off in the direction that the wizard had indicated and soon found themselves running through the copse of trees. What had seemed sparse and open before quickly became denser, closing in around them.

As the trees became thicker, they stopped, scanning again for any sign of the hobbit. Dwalin cursed under his breath. “Now what?” This was Thorin’s One--his search, his call. 

Thorin looked around. He didn’t know. The hobbit left no trace, no tracks. It would be a waste of time to search everywhere. Even splitting up wouldn’t do much if they didn’t have an idea of which way the hobbit might have gone. He shook his head at a loss. 

”Looky What we have here, boys. A couple of dwarves.” A slimy voice came from the shadows.

Thorin and Dwalin spun around, instantly wielding their weapons. “What do ye want?” Dwalin growled. 

”Was lookin' for a halfling. Looks like we got a bonus.” The leader sneered, stepping out of the shadows. Men appeared on nearly every side of them, a few uncovering lanterns they had hidden. They certainly looked like a crew of men up to know good. 

”What do you want with the halfling?” Thorin growled. More concerned about the lot’s intent than his and Dwalin’s predicament. They could take such an undisciplined group of men easily. 

”Why? He with you?” the leader asked with interest. “Excellent. That means he’s nearby.” The man studied them a moment. “Maybe nearer than we think, aye?” Apparently, he wasn't completely stupid. 

”You didn’t answer my question.”

”Oh, I don’t particularly care about the halfling, but we’re being paid to do him in ya see.”

”Why? And by who?!” Dwalin demanded.

”Well, I don’t really care why as long as I get my money. I _am_ going to get my money, right?” he directed back into the shadows. 

”I’ll give ya yer bloody money. Just get me that halfling. And I want him alive!” A familiar man hobbled out of the darkness. 

”You.” Thorin recognized him immediately, his lingering wounds only making his identity more obvious. 

”They must know him. He always did have a thing for dwarves. Always hiding in their shadows, their protection!” The man spit at the ground in disgust. “That one was at the inn too. Bet he’s travelin’ with them.” He pointed at Dwalin. 

”You will not touch him,” Thorin snarled, a growing anger burning in his chest. 

”Oh, we’re gonna do a lot more that that.” The leader snickered wickedly. “I hear he’s quite the looker, a pretty face and a nice arse. Bet he’ll look just precious begging for mercy.” 

”You will not touch him!!” Thorin shook in rage at what the man was implying. He would slaughter them all before letting any one of them touch a single strand of his One’s hair!

”Why? Ya got first dibs on ‘im or somethin’?” the man wondered. “I hear he does have a thing for dwarves. Doesn’t mean ya should hog ‘im all to yourselves, though.”

”I will kill anyone who touches him.”

”What? You and yer little buddy there?” The man laughed. He seemed to think six-to-one were good odds. Thorin would be more than happy to show him how wrong he was. 

”Ow!” One of the men forming the circle around the dwarrow yelped and slapped the back of his neck. The men all turned to him curiously. “Somethin’ bit me . . or somethin’.” the man shrugged sheepishly. 

”Suck it up, Jack.” The leader chided in annoyance, turning back to the dwarves. Before he could return to his trash talk, another man yelped and slapped at his neck. 

”Really, Mark?! What is up with you guys?! Ya’d think ya’d never been bitten by a bug before!” The boss yelled in aggravation. Just has he finished, Jack collapsed to the ground in a heap. “Jack!” The bass intoned with warning. “Ya better not be messin’ around!” He kicked at the man. 

Jack didn’t respond, and Mark collapsed just as someone else smacked at their neck with a grunt. “What is goin’ on here?” the leader wondered as the men started to get concerned, flashing their lanterns around and into the darkness. 

”Boss, I think we’re under attack.” One of the other men slurred as he drooped, collapsing into the ground. The third man who had been bitten hit the ground shortly after. 

With four men down for no apparent reason, the men huddled together in a panic, yelling and beaming the light of their lanterns into the darkness. 

Thorin and Dwalin turned back to back and scanned the trees around them, wary and suspicious of the attack. Thorin growled in frustration. All this nonsense was just getting in his way! He had a hobbit to find!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Thorin and Dwalin spectate as Bilbo takes care of the bandits. Thorin seems to come to some level of understanding with is hobbit.


	16. Poisons and Downpours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!😁

”It a ghost! This place is haunted! The wraiths must have floated down from Weathertop! We’re going to die!” One of the men rambled in his panic.

His boss knocked him over the head with his knuckles. ”There’s no such thing as bloody ghosts!” 

”Then what is it?!”

Their leader didn’t have an answer.

”There!” another of the men screamed. “It was right there! I saw it! There’s something out there!” 

”Saw what?!” The boss yelled in frustration. 

”I don’t know! All I saw was its eyes! They were glowing! Like a beast from hell itself!”

”What?!”

Something thudded in the darkness of trees, and suddenly every eye and lantern was focused on the direction of the sound. Even Thorin and Dwalin were on edge now. 

One of the men screamed and slapped at his neck in a panic, startling them all and causing them to turn away from the woods. The man slumped to the ground faster than any of the others had. 

”What the hell?!” The leader reached down to grab the lantern the man had been holding and paused. Grabbing the lantern, he picked something small off the ground, turning it over in his fingers. He growled and threw it back to the ground. “Someone’s messing with us!”

”There it is! Shoot it! Somebody shoot it!” One of the remaining men screamed, fumbling with his bow. 

”Give me that!” The leader yanked the bow out of his hands and shot an arrow sloppily into the trees. “Someone’s messing with us! They ain’t no big bites! They're poisoned darts!” 

Thorin and Dwalin exchanged confused glances. Darts?

”We’re on to yer little game!” The bandit boss yelled into the trees. “We ain’t gonna fall for any more of yer tricks!”

”Tricks?” A smooth voice laughed all around them. “I haven’t even gotten started,” it crooned. 

”Where is it coming from?!” 

“It really is a ghost!”

Thorin eased out of his defensive stance, returning Dwalin's perplexed look. They new that voice. Had become quite familiar with it thanks to the festivities at the Prancing Pony. 

”There! Shoot it!” One of the men spotted, and their leader shot in the general direction as quickly as possible. 

“It’s not a ghost!” 

”Then why are its eyes glowing!” Another man challenged. 

”It’s not a ghost!!” The boss insisted angrily, shooting into the darkness again. 

”Are you sure?” the voice echoed around them sweetly. 

”The eyes! The eyes!” One of the men left their small circle babbling and ran into the trees with a scream. “They’re everywhere!” 

”Stop!” The leader tried to call him back, but the man didn't even look back. The woods rustled as he ran clumsily through them until, suddenly, the sounds ended with a soft thud. 

The remaining men cowered, staring out into the darkness with horror stricken faces. Too terrified to even scream. Thorin looked around, trying to spot what they were seeing, what was scaring them into mute silence. All he saw was the darkness, no eyes, no monster, and no hobbit. 

There was an inhuman wail off to their right, and two of the men bolted in the opposite direction, unable to take it anymore. There was a loud rustling as they fell somewhere out in the trees. They hadn't made it far, and there were no sounds of them getting back up. 

Only four men were left now, including the leader and the snake that had hired them to come after Thorin’s One. Thorin didn’t know how how the hobbit was pulling it off, but he was pretty sure this was all Bilbo's doing. He swatted Dwalin and gestured towards the men. There was no need to wait for Bilbo's tricks to finish the job. They could knock out a few men easily enough. 

They sneaked up on the heavily distracted men and clobbered two of them over their heads. They instantly collapsed, alerting the other two. The leader turned to face them, his sword drawn, but the slimy coward of a snake turned to run into the woods. 

”Going somewhere?” A small figure stepped out of the darkness.

”You!” the man screamed in terror as much as anger. 

”Didn’t you come to ‘get a piece of me?” Bilbo asked as he casually walked closer. His eyes glowed yellow-green in the lantern light. It was certainly an eerie sight, but Thorin had seen it before. 

”You’re a monster!” The snake of a man spun to run in the other direction. Bilbo wasn't about to let that happen. He swung his stick out, catching the man’s foot with its handle, and the man fell on his face. 

Leaping agilely forward, the hobbit hopped onto the man’s back and perched on his toes as he squatted. He leaned over the man’s head. “You should have learned your lesson at the inn.” He pulled out the daggers from his gauntlets and stabbed them into the ground on either side of the man’s neck, leaving the blades exposed and only a hair away from the man’s flesh. “Don’t move.” 

The leader rushed at them with a cry, taking advantage of the distraction to slip away from the dwarrow. Cursing, Thorin took off after him, but it proved unnecessary. The man staggered and fell before he even reached the hobbit. Thorin looked to his One for some kind of explanation and caught him slipping a small tube back into its pouch. 

”Now it’s just you an me. Just like you wanted,” Bilbo cooed over the last, trembling man doing his best not to press his neck against the blades. “You'll wish you learned your lesson in Bree,” he growled menacingly and pulled a small glass bottle and thin needle from a pouch on his belt. “I don’t know what Dino gave you, but I can guess. I promise this will be much, much worse.” The man whimpered.

Dwalin caught up and sent his king a curious glance as they watched the hobbit slide the needle into the bottle. He pulled it back out slowly, a tiny bead of liquid on its point. Bilbo put the jar back and grabbed the man’s hair, jerking his head up. “If you ever come for me again, you won’t walk away in one piece,” Bilbo whispered into his ear and slid the needle into his neck.

Pulling it out again, he ignored the man’s sobbing, and put it away before retrieving his daggers. “Enjoy.” He added sweetly and stepped off the man's back. He stopped in front of the dwarrow. “What are you doing here?”

”We came after you,” Thorin answered numbly, trying to reconcile what had just happened with what he knew about his hobbit. 

”You realize you almost ruined everything?”

”Ye seemed to manage all right,” Dwalin snorted. “What’d ye even do to 'em?”

”It should be obvious. I already told you about poisons.” Bilbo wandered over to the boss man and began searching him, murmuring at his finds.

”What are you doing?” Thorin's brain was a little overwhelmed to think for itself at the moment.

”I’m a burglar,” Bilbo returned as if it was obvious. “I’m burgling.”

”Do ye kill everyone ye burgle?” Dwalin kicked at the man at his feet. 

”Of course not,” Bilbo scoffed. "They aren’t dead. They _deserve_ to be dead. But I won’t be the one to carry out that judgement.”

”How’d ye do that thing with yer eyes?” Dwalin continued to query.

”What thing?” Bilbo returned as he moved on to his next victim. 

”Ye know, the glowing thing. They were seein’ ‘em everywhere.”

”I didn’t do anything. As for seeing them everywhere. They were hallucinating. I was able to dose most of them before you showed up. It was slow acting though so It didn’t take affect right away. I was hoping to scatter them and take them out one a time a time. I guess I should thank you for saving me all the running around.” He didn't sound entirely convinced by his own words. 

”Ye didn’t make them glow? Did ye dose us too?!”

”Of course not, you silly dwarf,” Bilbo chuckled as he looted another man. 

"Then how--“

"They just do,” Thorin interrupted. “It must be part of whatever condition he has.”

Dwalin raised a disbelieving brow. 

"We should get back to camp.” Thorin ignored him. 

"No one’s stopping you.” Bilbo moved on to the next man. 

"We’re not leaving you here,” Thorin retorted firmly. 

Bilbo paused what he was doing and turned an ear toward him. “And why is that?"

"Because you are a part of my company, and I will not leave you out here alone,” Thorin answered. It was the most honest answer he dared give. 

Bilbo hummed contemplatively and continued what he was doing. “Then I guess you had better help me find all my darts so we can head back.”

”What kind of darts?” Dwalin wondered, searching the ground, 

Bilbo stood and walked over, holding up a tiny, metal spike with a tuft of hair on the end. “Blow darts.” He clarified. “Silent and discrete. Don’t prick yourself or we’ll be dragging you back to camp. You sound heavy. I don’t feel like exerting that much effort,” he ordered and went to find another victim. 

Dwalin scoffed and stomped off to look.

”How many are you missing?” Thorin asked as he grabbed a lantern to start searching as well. 

”Just two, I think. Some got swatted quite a ways,” Bilbo answered. “I’m going to loot the idiots who ran. I’ll be right back.” He disappeared into the darkness. 

Thorin refrained from running after him. The hobbit was even more at home in the dark then they were. He busied himself with searching for the missing darts and trying not to worry about his absent hobbit. Despite his distracted searching, he noticed a glint on the ground and picked up a small dart.

”Find one?” A voice emerged from the woods and startled him. 

”One, yes.” Thorin handed it over carefully, and Bilbo slipped it into one of his pouches.

”Just one left then. Did you find anything?” The hobbit wandered toward Dwalin.

”Nay. Don’t see how we’re supposed to find something so little lost in the grass in the middle of the night.”

”My apologies.” Bilbo squatted near one of the unconscious men. “I forgot you were _impaired_ ,” he sassed over his shoulder. 

”He’s kiddin’ right?”

Thorin shook his head dismissively and watched his hobbit as Bilbo sniffed around. Using his nose to guide him, Bilbo shuffled around on the ground. "Ah! There you are.” He plucked another dart out of a tangle of grass. 

”Ye found it? By sniffin' around?” Dwalin asked incredulously. 

”Obviously.” Bilbo stood and put away his dart. “They have horses tied to the other side of these woods. Should we loot them too or leave them?” He pulled his stick out of a tree’s shadow. 

”Leave them. We need to get back to camp,” Thorin decided. The wizard was awake to keep watch at least, but having his One so far away from the combined safety of the company made him nervous. 

”As you wish,” Bilbo sighed. “Seems a wasted opportunity, though. Come on then.” He hoisted a sack of his looted goodies over his shoulder and started walking away. 

Thorin and Dwalin shared a silent look and followed. They were both curious as to whether the hobbit could navigate back to camp on his own, so let him lead the way. They weren’t planning to offer any guidance, but that didn't mean Thorin couldn’t catch up and carry Bilbo's sack for him. 

”Let me carry that,” he ordered more than offered. 

Bilbo snatched it back. “I can handle it.”

”Doesn’t mean you have to carry it. You did most of the work back there. You can at least let me carry your bag.” 

”Considering you shouldn’t have even been there, I was fully prepared to take care of everything on my own. How did you even find me? It was that bloody wizard, wasn’t it?” Bilbo snapped back.

”My apologies. I suppose I should have just let you wander off to face a dozen men on your own. What was I thinking, being concerned for your safety?”

”That’s what I would like to know!” They both came to a stop to argue properly. 

”You know, I’m beginning to think your handicap isn’t your blindness but your bloody stubbornness!” Thorin's built up concern came out as anger. 

”My ‘handicap’ is my apparent willingness to follow after a dwarf who doesn’t think I'm capable of playing any roll but damsel in distress! I don’t need your bloody protection!”

”I’m not trying to protect you! I offered to carry a bag! Why is that so offensive to you?!”

”Oh, I don’t know? Maybe I don’t like being treated like an invalid!” 

”I’m not treating you like an invalid! I’m treating you like an equal!” Thorin bellowed back in frustration. 

Dwalin watched in amusement from the sidelines as the two went quiet.

”Well aren’t you just the bloody gentledwarf,” Bilbo sassed half-heartedly. 

”Is that supposed to be an insult?” Thorin drawled, his pent up emotions having been sufficiently aired. 

”Fine. You can carry the bloody bag!” Bilbo swung it into the dwarf's chest, forcing him to catch it. 

”Thank you,” Thorin returned, not sounding particularly grateful, and swung it over his shoulder as they started moving again. 

”Just don’t get carried away. I don’t need a bloody romantic following me about.”

”You think I’m romantic?” Thorin wondered, an obvious hint of delight in his voice. 

Spluttering, Bilbo's cheeks turned an unmistakable shade of red in the lantern light. “It-It’s just an expression!"

Thorin chuckled and grinned, pleased regardless of the hobbit’s insistent denials, even more so because of them. Perhaps his One protested too much. They continued to bicker lightly as they walked to camp. Huffing, Dwalin rolled his eyes as he followed. 

The next morning, Bilbo was the last to get up, stubbornly burying his head in his bed roll to block out the growing racket that was dwarrow as they started getting around. 

”Someone best wake up, Master Baggins. Seems he don’t want to join us this morning,” Bofur teased and ambled over to do it himself. 

”Leave him be.” Thorin stopped him. “He’ll get up when he’s ready.” 

Bofur consented easily with a shrug and wandered off to continue what he was doing. Sure enough, Bilbo was up and ready to go by the time they started mounting to head out, albeit ruffled and drowsy looking. His curls were a riotous mess, even more then usual, despite his lazy attempts to tame them. Thorin found it . . . adorable and arousing all at once and tried not to get caught staring too intently. 

They hadn’t been on the road very long before Bifur road up along side of the hobbit and grunted something. Bilbo lifted his head tiredly and listened as Bifur continued to talk at him in his rough sounding language, holding out a small sack.

"He says--“

"Thank you, Bifur.” Bilbo cut off Bofur who had rode up behind his cousin to interpret. “That’s very kind of you.” He took the small bag. 

”You can understand 'im?” Bofur wondered in surprise. 

”You know Khuzdul, Master Baggins?” Fili trotted up after overhearing. 

”Just bits and pieces, really,” Bilbo answered distractedly as he dug into the bag and pulled out a roll. Hard from being on the road several days, but still good. He took a bite and chewed lazily. He hadn’t bothered to get up for breakfast. 

The princes continued to shoot questions at him, crowding Bifur out, as Bilbo tried to ignore them in favor of eating.

Thorin was always listening if his hobbit was involved, of course, and he huffed in annoyance at the ease with which Bilbo accepted the food from Bifur. Why did it seem like Thorin as the only one the hobbit didn’t like accepting assistance from? Did Bilbo instinctively know that Thorin was different from the others? That their connection was different? Was he opposed or just stubborn? 

Sighing, Thorin wasn’t too disappointed. He did seem to be making slow progress with his One. At the very least, he knew Bilbo considered him differently from the others, and that was an encouragement. 

By mid morning, Bilbo was finally fully awake and back to his usual self. Just in time for the clouds to open and pour their contents down on them. Everyone pulled their rain cloaks out of their packs, Bilbo included, and they continued on. 

It rained all day, all that night, and continued into the next day. By that point, there was little cheer left in the company and jokes and laughter were replaced by complaints and groaning. The only one who didn’t seem put out by the constant downpour was the hobbit, who trudged along beside them, entirely encased in his large cloak, in an even better mood than usual.

”Aren’t you bloody sick of this rain?” Kili wondered and whined at the same time. 

”Not really,” Bilbo answered pleasantly. “I find the sound of rain wonderfully soothing.”

”This bloody wetness is giving me saddle rash,” Fili complained.

”Yes, well, it’s hard to stay covered in a seated position. I’m perfectly dry . . . save my feet, and they clean up nicely.” Bilbo rubbed in.

”How can you stand walking in all that mud with bare feet?” Kili asked sounding disgusted.

Bilbo shrugged under his large cloak, his hood pulled down past his chin since he didn’t need to use his eyes. “I’ve felt much worse things on my feet. And it’s not like I can’t avoid the worst of the puddles.”

”But how do you even know where they are?!” Fili asked in misplaced frustration. “You're blind! . . . No offense,” he added when his brother smacked him. 

”I may be sight impaired, but at least I’m not scent, hearing, and touch impaired. What you see is only a fraction of the world around you. Yet it is the only part you seem to acknowledge,” Bilbo chided lightly before lapsing into a distant silence. 

”I didn’t mean . . “ Fili trailed off and sighed, choosing to keep his mouth shut instead. 

The company returned to a disgruntled silence with the occasional grumbled complaint or curse as they continued on. The rain continued to pour on them all day, all night, and well into the next day, only relenting by late afternoon.

The company heaved a collective sigh of relief when the rain finally stopped, and their moods slowly lifted as the sun made a brief appearance before it began setting for the evening. 

Rain cloaks were put away and relieved chatter continued as they started searching for a camping spot for the evening that wasn’t buried under rainwater. Eventually, they found a hill between the road and the forest with the remains of an old ruined farmhouse. Finding it relatively dry, Thorin called the company to a stop for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Bilbo volunteers to 'watch' the ponies with Bifur's help and the two get to know each other a little better. Thorin finds his hobbit in the woods and challenges his One to a friendly spar.


	17. Ponies and Strolls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank every one my readers for your support, kudos, comments, and subscribes this past year! Without you, I would have already given up on writing several times over. You inspire me to keep creating and improving! I love you all and wish every one of you the best in the coming new year.🥰🥰🥰
> 
> Now, Enjoy!😁🥰

”We should keep going!” Gandalf insisted.

”We will stop here for the night!” Thorin barked back as the company continued to make camp around them. He didn’t know why the wizard was being so bloody insistent, and his refusal to explain himself only served to feed Thorin's suspicion. Turning to march away before Gandalf could urge any further, he nearly ran into a hobbit. “My apologies, Master Baggins,” he rumbled, his temper quickly fizzling out with the change in focus. 

”This place isn’t safe.” Bilbo ignored his apology. “Can we not move on?” 

Thorin glanced at the wizard, wondering if he had found out about Thorin's . . . situation and designed to use the hobbit against him. Tharkun only raised a challenging brow. Thorin turned back to his One. “It would be unwise. What makes you think it’s not safe?” 

”If I told you, would you believe me?”

”I believed you last time,” Thorin reminded, waiting patiently for an answer. 

Bilbo considered him a moment. “Something foul has been here,” he finally answered quietly. “It may return.”

”Do you know what it is?” Thorin asked, scanning the surrounding woods.

Bilbo shook his head minutely. “There is something . . . off. But I can’t pinpoint what it is. The rain has hidden it from me.”

”I will keep your concerns in mind. I value your input, but the road is muddy. Riding the ponies on in in the dark would risk one of them losing their footing and becoming injured. We can not care for an injured animal. We would have to put it down.”

”I understand,” Bilbo accepted. “Then we'll need to keep a careful watch tonight.”

”And we will.” Thorin turned a glare to the wizard. “We will continue in the morning!” He shouted over the entire camp.

”Stubborn, hard-headed dwarrow!” Gandalf raged grabbing his horse and mounting. 

”Where’s he off to then?” Bofur wondered. 

”It hardly matters. He can take care of himself,” Bilbo replied. “We have other things to worry about.” He walked toward the camp center as the wizard disappeared down the road. 

”Mysterious one, ain’t he?” Bofur commented as he and Thorin watched the hobbit leave. 

Thorin gave him a side-eyed glare and walked into camp himself. He didn’t appreciate the others admiring his One so openly . . . even if his hobbit was particularly easy on the eyes. 

The ponies were unloaded and dinner was started. Thorin started setting up a shift rotation for the night’s watch. “The ponies will need to be watched separately. We can’t afford lose them.” 

”I’ll take first watch over the ponies,” Bilbo suddenly volunteered. 

”What?” Gloin voiced the general disbelief. 

”Well, technically, I won’t be keeping ‘watch’ per say, but I will ‘keep watch’ in a figurative manner.” Bilbo clarified. “Unless of course, you don’t think I’m capable.”

”Yer bloody blind! Of course, ye ain’t capable!” Gloin barked, earning a smack of Oin’s knuckles over his head. 

Thorin hesitated, not because he doubted Bilbo could do it. He had learn to trust his One’s perceptiveness, but because he didn’t want the hobbit so far out of his sight.

”Very well. Bifur, would you care to accompany me?”

The two-toned dwarf grunted a strong affirmative. 

”There. Now there should be no problems.” 

Thorin still didn’t feel right about it and not because of the spike of jealousy from his hobbit's signaling out of Bifur. The rest of the company turned to stare at him, awaiting an answer as his silence dragged on. “All right,” he finally consented. He couldn’t refuse without offending his One. He was sure of that.

”Good. if you’ll give me a hand Bifur, we’ll get all these ponies settled,” Bilbo prompted, and Bifur rushed to his side to help. The dwarf seemed a little too eager as far as Thorin was concerned. The two of them disappeared with the ponies in tow, and Thorin forced himself to resume allotting the watch shifts despite the jealousy churning in his belly.

_~Bilbo~_

They guided the ponies to a relatively clear area in the woods and tied them near the best patches of grass. The last thing he wanted was to be running around after spooked ponies. Bifur had been prepared to leave them loose, but he complied easily enough with a soft suggestion. 

With the ponies settled and munching away on forest greens, Bifur found an old fallen log for them to sit on while they kept ‘watch.’ Bifur hopped up onto it with a grunted invitation. 

Bilbo ambled over to investigate. It was a little tall for his liking. There was no way his feet would reach the ground, and he needed to be connected with the earth. Leaning against it near the dwarf instead, he listened as Bifur started whittling.

They remained in comfortable silence for awhile. Bilbo listened to and felt the forest around him, but didn’t notice anything unusual. When he wasn’t focusing on the forest, he listened to the sound of wood shavings being carved away as Bifur worked. It was a different sort of sound, natural and soothing in its own way. 

”I wonder if they’ll remember to bring us some dinner,” he mused absently. He’d never been as dedicated an eater as most hobbits, but he was starting to feel the diminished meals. 

**”They’ll bring it,”** Bifur assured. 

"Maybe for you. I think there are few who would prefer if I wondered off and didn’t come back,” Bilbo confided. He'd never gotten that feeling from this particular dwarf.

**"No. They like you. Just worried.”**

”Like me? Why? I’m just an invalid as far as they're concerned. They didn’t even want me to come.”

 **"You’re cute. Didn’t want you hurt. They like you.”** Bilbo heard the dwarf's clothing rustle from a shrug.

”W-What?” Bilbo spluttered and blushed. “Th-that’s not a good reason!”

**”Good enough. Cute. Good voice. Stubborn. Confident. Some like you a lot.”**

Attempting some stuttered denials, Bilbo gave up with a shake of his head. “They have a funny way of showing it,” he muttered. 

Bifur chuckled. **"They don’t know how to talk to you. You throw them off.”**

“I thought you dwarrow weren’t supposed to be so squeamish,” Bilbo returned grumpily. 

Bifur chuckled again. **”It’s not your eyes. They want to protect but not offend. Don’t know how.”**

”Well, they don’t need to protect me.” 

**”You’re cute and small. We want to protect.”** Bifur's clothes rustled again. 

Bilbo scoffed in superficial offense. “I’m not that small! And I don’t know about this ‘cute’ nonsense. My hair is always crazy. I can't tame it no matter how hard I try.” He ran a hand through it. “I can’t keep any weight on. My eyes are quite ‘freakish’ I’m told. I’m bloody cursed! What’s so cute about that?!” He allowed himself to vent. He felt comfortable with Bifur, a sort of camaraderie as a result of their unconventional conditions. 

He heard the dwarf shake his head. **”Not cursed. Just different. Exotic. Very cute.”**

Bilbo scoffed to hide his growing embarrassment. He never understood what people saw when they looked at him. He couldn’t see it. He didn’t even know what he looked like beyond a self- awareness. What defined cute? What inspired attraction for them? It was so different from his dark world of sounds, scents and sensations. He couldn’t understand their standards of beauty. He couldn’t relate. "What are you making?” he wondered, ready for a different topic. 

**"Flower.”**

”Really?” Bilbo’s interest piqued. “You like flowers?”

The dwarf grunted an affirmative. 

”How interesting.” Bilbo sighed wistfully. “I used to listen to my mother describe them.” He paused. “Almost made me wish I could see them.”

**"Would you like to see it?”**

”What?” Bilbo asked confused. “Oh, of course.” He took the piece of wood offered him. Turning it over in his hands, he felt the grooves and the delicate carving of leaves and petals. “Wow. Bifur. This is . . . This is magnificent. The detail’s amazing. This is--“ he gasped softly, recognizing the shape. 

**"It’s for you.”**

"It’s a . . “

**"Yep.”**

Bilbo admired the wooden flower in his hands with his fingers. “How did you know?” he asked quietly. 

**"Ya look like her.”**

"I . . . don’t know how to feel about that. My mother was regarded as a great beauty.”

Bifur grunted in agreement. 

"You’ve met her?”

**”Yes. Passing through. Met in a bar. Saw my injury. Talked about flowers and herbs. Possible treatments. Offered to help. Explained her name was flower. Before you, I think,”** Bifur explained in short pieces. 

Bilbo was silent as he absorbed the information. “What was she like?” he wondered quietly. 

**"Beautiful. Lively. Confident. Friendly. Smart. Like you.”**

"I’m none of those things,” Bilbo sniffed back the uninvited moisture in his eyes. His mother was perfect. Even if he would never know what she really looked like. Her voice, her touch, he remembered those things.

**"You are.”**

Bilbo shook his head. He couldn’t believe that. “It’s wonderful, Bifur.” He tried to hand it back. 

**”Keep it. It’s yours.”** Bifur wouldn't take it. 

”I’ve hardly earned such a gift.”

**”if ya earned it, it wouldn’t be a gift.”**

Bilbo couldn't to argue with that. “All right,” he surrendered, inspecting it once more with his fingers. “It really is impressive. Especially considering that’s not even your whittling knife.” He reached into an inside pocket of his leather vest and pulled out a small knife. “I think it’s safe to return this.”

 **”Thanks,”** Bifur received it gratefully. 

”You’re a good dwarf, Bifur,” Bilbo added quietly, wiping away the remnants of moisture from his face. “I’m gonna go for a walk. Will you be okay?” 

The dwarf grunted in agreement. 

”All right. I won’t be too far. Just call me if you need me for something.” Slipping his wooden flower into one of his pouches, Bilbo walked off. He wandered off a ways, still feeling uneasy about the forest. Something was off, but the earth was still, and the rain had washed away any scent traces that might stick out. 

Meandering through the trees, Bilbo was careful not to go out of range of the vibrations and sounds coming from a camp full of dwarrow. An uneasy feeling was growing in his stomach, but he still couldn’t put his finger on what exactly it was. 

He stopped when he encountered a large obstacle in his path. A sniff and tap of his stick confirmed it was a fallen tree . . . a really big fallen tree. Following it, he discovered the trunk end. He tapped his stick around in confusion as he determined that a good portion of the root system had been ripped up by whatever had felled the large tree. His stomach twisted, his unease growing. This . . . could not be a good sign. 

Stepping carefully, he edged around the hole that once contained the roots. The whole thing felt unnatural. He kicked away some leaves and twigs and let his feet press into the bare earth. There was still nothing unusual. 

A rustle and soft grunt distracted him. His ears twitched as they tracked something small skittering around near his feet. “Hello,” he greeted softly, smirking when the little creature startled. He squatted down slowly as it regarded him curiously. “Are you hungry?” He slowly pulled out a piece of jerky from one of his many pouches and held it out. 

The creature hesitated a moment before bouncing forward and grabbing it out of his fingers, dashing away with its prize. “You’re welcome.” Bilbo grinned, crossing his arms over his knees and resting his chin on them. 

”Was this your home, little one? Did something destroy it?” he wondered quietly as the critter made short work of the jerky. It bounced back after finishing, looking for more with a series of little grunts. 

”All right,” Bilbo chuckled, pulling out another piece and handing it over. The creature didn’t bother retreat this time and ate it right there in front of him. Reaching out, Bilbo gently brushed its back with his fingertips. It startled, turning to sniff at him before continuing its meal. 

”You must be a ferret,” Bilbo mused in delight as he gently traced the creature's form with his fingers. “I’ve never actually encountered a real one. It’s very nice to meet you.” He grinned and scratched its head and ears when it didn’t object. 

The creature licked at his fingers that had held the jerky before shuffling closer to search for more. Bilbo giggled with subdue glee at the attention, turning his ear over his shoulder to better hear the rustles approaching. Reaching in to his pouch, he pulled out one more piece of jerky as vibrations of oncoming footfalls absorbed into the soles of his feet. 

”This is the last piece, little one. Go find yourself a new home,” he whispered. The ferret snatched the jerky and bounded away, the approaching visitor getting too close for its comfort.

Bilbo stood and breathed in deep before sighing it out, absently wondering what could have knocked over such a massive tree while he waited for that troublesome dwarf to reach him.

_~Thorin~_

Thorin stalked as quietly as he could through the forest. When he had gone to check on Bilbo and Bifur watching the ponies and discovered his One had gone ‘for a walk,’ he immediately went after him. Hadn’t the hobbit said these woods were dangerous?! Why was he wandering around them alone?!

By some stroke of luck or blessing from Mahal, it didn’t take him long to spot his hobbit, and he crept closer, doing his best to avoid attracting attention. For a moment, he’d thought Bilbo had been hurt, as he was squatting close to the ground, but it seemed that wasn't the case. He had to pass around a large tree to get to where his hobbit was, and his view was momentarily blocked. When he reached the other side, his One was gone. 

He trudged over to where Bilbo had been and looked around in confusion. The hobbit had just been there. Something landed over his shoulder and rested lightly under his chin. He forced himself still as Bilbo walked around from behind him, his stick pressed lightly against his neck.

”It’s me.” Thorin thought he should clarify, and the hobbit came to a stop in front of him, his stick still at Thorin’s throat. 

Bilbo huffed, his stick dropping to nudge at Thorin’s armored chest. “I know who you are.”

”Do you? And how is that?” Thorin asked intrigued as the stick finally fell away. 

”I know your walk,” Bilbo answered frankly. 

”Oh, really?” Thorin was pleasantly surprised. “Have you memorized my walk, Master Baggins?” he asked teasingly, and they began to slowly circle one another. 

”I have memorized everyone’s walk, everyone’s voice, everyone’s scent. How else am I to know you one from the other. I can’t very well see you, can I?”

Thorin was more pleased when he thought he was the only one. “What are you doing out here alone? Aren’t you supposed to be watching the ponies?” He changed the subject. 

”Bifur has the ponies well in hand. It’s the forest that concerns me.”

”And so you came out here alone?”

”I can take care of myself.”

”So you say . . . a lot. Men are weak minded. Your little trick won’t work on everything.”

”I’m capable of more than just tricks.”

”Are you?” Thorin considered his hobbit as they stopped circling. “Shall we test that confidence?” He grabbed his sword. He would never do any real harm to his One, but the hobbit could use a little dose of reality. 

”You want me to fight you?” Bilbo returned unimpressed. “You want to spar with a blind hobbit?” 

”Only if you can handle it,” Thorin goaded. 

Bilbo scoffed. “I don’t have to prove myself to you.”

”You’re right. It’s probably for the best. I wouldn’t want to hurt you,” Thorin agreed easily as he put his sword away. It had the desired affect, he almost didn’t have his sword lifted in time to block the stick aimed for his head. “I though you didn’t have anything to prove?” He smirked. 

”Maybe this isn’t about proving myself. Maybe I just feel like knocking you over the head,” Bilbo retorted, a slight furrow of annoyance in his brows. 

Thorin chuckled, knocking away the stick. “No offense, but I don’t think you've got what it takes.”

”Then this is likely going to be very embarrassing for you.”

Thorin prepared a comeback to fire back but didn’t get the chance. Bilbo lunged suddenly, and Thorin barely blocked the stick with his sword. He nearly failed to parry the second and third swings, not expecting a rapid succession of attacks. Stumbling back out of range, he stared in surprise as his hobbit stood before him calm and waiting. Bilbo's feet were spread in a solid stance, and his head dipped low, both hands resting on his walking stick. It was the exact same stance he had been in when Thorin first encountered him in the Shire. 

Thorin eye’s widened. There was nothing casual about it. He didn’t know what style it was, but he knew a battle stance when he saw one. Gripping his sword tighter, he prepared to take this game a little more seriously. “You didn’t mention you had experience with combat.”

”You didn’t ask.” Bilbo smirked. 

Thorin turned his blade round in his hand, using the dull side just in case, and stalked closer to his One. The hobbit’s ears twitched as they tracked him. He zigzagged back and forth, trying to gain a better understandings of how his One’s perception worked while Bilbo stood still in his spot waiting. 

Thorin lunged suddenly, but Bilbo was ready and waiting. The hobbit dodged fluidly and retaliated with his own swing. Thorin tried to parry but the angle was strange, and he received a hard knock to his knuckles instead. He hissed from the pain, his training he only reason he didn’t drop his sword from the impact. Switching his sword to the other hand so he could shake out the sting, he regarded his hobbit more seriously. 

Bilbo didn’t give him much time to recover and lunged for him again. Thorin blocked quickly, but Bilbo ducked low before popping back up on the inside of Thorin's blade. Thorin startled when the hobbit was suddenly staring at him only inches from his face. A hard _thunk_ to his head reminded him he was in the middle of a spar. 

”Ow,” he grunted as Bilbo disappeared out of his reach.

”I guess I win,” Bilbo giggled in triumph. 

”You have a very . . . unique fighting style.” Thorin put away his sword and rubbed his head. 

”I have a rather unique condition.”

Thorin studied his One who was waiting in his stance. A smile grew on his face. It seemed neither of them were quiet ready to be done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Thorin and Bilbo finish their little spar, and the victor claims his prize. Things aren't well with the company, and Bilbo takes charge of getting them out of the mess they've gotten into.


	18. Spars and Trolls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!😁

Thorin put his sword away. He wouldn’t do anything that would risk hurting his One, so it was more a hindrance than anything. He grabbed a good sized stick off the ground and secured it in his grip lengthwise along his arm. He needed some kind of defense against Bilbo's staff. 

Circling his hobbit, Thorin watched for any openings or weaknesses. He was both delighted and relieved to find his One actually had a decent amount of skill. Bilbo's style and technique were different, but Thorin found it a thrilling challenge, even more so if he could conquer the stubborn hobbit. 

Bilbo's ear followed him as he stalked his circle. Those attractive, attentive ears. Thorin charged suddenly, his new goal to relieve the hobbit of his stick. It should be easy to subdue him then. 

Spinning around to meet him, Bilbo swung for his head. Thorin blocked the staff with his own stick and swatted it aside, pushing on to get past the longer weapon's optimum range. Bilbo backed away as he continued to swing, and Thorin deflected every blow. Within steps, Thorin had barged his way into the hobbit’s space, and Bilbo no longer had room to attack. 

Now Thorin was on the offensive, and Bilbo struggled to block his blows and evade the dwarf's attempts to get a hold of him. Gripping his staff in both hands, Bilbo pushed it forward hard, knocking Thorin back a step, but otherwise not accomplishing much. Thorin huffed at the wasted attempt until he realized its purpose.

By pushing him away, Bilbo had granted himself more freedom of movement, an opportunity to change his stance. He twisted the two ends of the staff, and it popped apart. He now had shorter duel weapons. Spinning both sticks rapidly in his fingers, Bilbo took a more offensive stance.

Thorin stared. The adrenaline only fed his excitement and elation. His One was full of surprises! Charging again, he quickly realized the challenge had jumped up a notch. He could block one normal sized stick well enough, but now there were two, both shorter and requiring less space to be used. 

The blows to his arms and body were absorbed by his armor well enough, though he was surprised with the strength of impact Bilbo’s two little sticks could put out. Even the blows to his legs and head were bearable, thanks to his sturdy dwarven constitution, but the constant rapping on his skull was becoming disorienting. 

Ducking away, Thorin retreated a few steps for some relief, and Bilbo shot him a victorious grin. Thorin growled playfully. The hobbit’s attacks were troublesome to be sure, but hardly deadly or even incapacitating. Bilbo wiggled a finger in invitation, a grin on his face. Thorin wasn’t the only one enjoying their little spar. He charged forward again, determined to push through the volley of blows. 

Just before Thorin reached him, the smile dropped from Bilbo’s face, and the hobbit hesitated. Taking advantage of the opening, Thorin shoved him with his forearm. Bilbo stumbled backward, deflecting any further attempts to disarm him. Thorin’s knuckles throbbed from repeated hits. 

Something was off. Bilbo seemed distracted, and Thorin took advantage of it, pressing forward into his One's space again and ignoring the blows it earned him. Bilbo stumbled backward in his distraction, and Thorin finally stilled those meddlesome sticks. Wrapping a large hand around each of the hobbit’s wrists, Thorin pushed his surprised One until they hit a tree and pinned Bilbo's arms against its bark. 

Bilbo recovered from his shock and struggled to pull his arms away, but Thorin held them secure. When Bilbo tried to lift his legs up between them, Thorin pressed in closer to remove the option. 

They panted each other's air, winded from the challenge. “I win,” Thorin gloated down at his hobbit, their faces barely inches apart. 

”I’d hardly call it a win,” Bilbo sassed between breaths. “I’m out of shape and out of practice.” He pulled at Thorin’s grip.

”That’s hardly my fault.”

”I was distracted.” 

”Now you’re just making excuses, Master Baggins.” Thorin pressed closer. “I still won. I should get a prize.” He brushed his nose along Bilbo’s and heard the hobbit’s breath hitch. 

Bilbo huffed shakily. “I hardly have anything you’d want.”

"I can think of something." Thorin brushed his lips against Bilbo's. The touch made energy tingle across his face. He barely registered the gasp, but he did notice when Bilbo's lips parted just barely. Still he controlled himself. He couldn't harm his One. Just when he was about to give up and pull away, Bilbo's lips collided firmly with his. Permission enough as far as Thorin was concerned.

It was like kissing fire, and it escaped into Thorin's chest, igniting a deep flame. He deepened the kiss at the first opportunity, absently noting the hobbit’s sticks falling to the ground. Releasing Bilbo’s wrists, he wrapped his arms around his One instead and pulled him closer. 

Bilbo gripped Thorin’s coat in his fists, tugging the dwarf down to his level. Thorin bent willingly, curling around his smaller hobbit. He would give as much as hid One desired. And Bilbo _desired_. His kisses were almost hungry. 

_~Bilbo~_

Bilbo whimpered. It was all too much and not enough. He tugged at the dwarf, until Thorin pressed him up against the tree. All of his senses were hyper-focused on this kiss, this dwarf, and it was overwhelming. But not in the way he'd expected. He was breathless and weakened, yes, but the fog of his mind was strangely absent. He was acutely aware of every touch, every glide of tongue and lips, every brush of beard, every puff of hot panted air coming from the dwarf. 

It was overwhelming in an entirely new and terrifying way. Sparks of energy tingled under his skin wherever the dwarf touched, and the flame on their lips was intoxicating. He pushed into it for more like a starving hobbit. But it was still too much. As much as he wanted it, he couldn't handle it. Without even losing his clarity of mind, he felt the darkness threatening to engulf him as his senses overloaded. His body was going to shut down at this rate. He absently mused that he wouldn’t mind swooning to a feeling like this. 

Still he struggled against the fall, if only to experience this feeling--these amazing sensations--for even a moment longer. Just as he felt the inky black tendril of darkness wrapping around his mind to drag him under, new sensations shattered his concentration. 

Gasping, he pushed the dwarf away suddenly, refocusing on the vibrations under his feet and the sounds drifting through the forest. 

”What is it?” Thorin asked. When Bilbo didn’t answer, he tried to press against him again seeking his lips. 

Bilbo huffed in irritation and grabbed his wrist, using the dwarf’s own momentum to spin him around in the opposite direction. Now that Bilbo was in control of himself again, he cursed his weakness for deep toned dwarfs, for any kind of bloody dwarf! What was he thinking?

”What?” Thorin mumbled in confusion, likely wondering how he was suddenly not pinning a hobbit to the tree. 

Bilbo picked up his sticks and snapped them back together as he started heading towards the vibrations coming from the ground. What was he bloody thinking?! Even without the added caution he needed this night, he couldn’t be letting his guard down around a dwarf, especially _this_ dwarf! There was no way this would end well. He left a trail of curses in his wake.

_~Thorin~_

Recovering from his surprise, Thorin chased after his hobbit. Bilbo was marching away, a string of curses falling off his tongue in multiple languages, including Khuzdul. 

”Where are you going? What’s wrong?” He asked, still reeling from the sudden change in atmosphere. 

”To rescue your bloody company!”

”What?!” What did Bilbo know that he didn’t? “From what?!”

”We’ll figure that out when we get there, won’t we?” Bilbo cursed some more. “How could I have not noticed?! You’re bloody distracting, you know that?!” he snapped over his shoulder. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Thorin struggled to keep up with his One’s pace through the undergrowth. Bilbo seemed to glide over the terrain with no effort. 

”Well, it’s not!” Bilbo retorted hotly. “Thanks to you, you might not even have a company anymore!”

”What are you talking about?!” Thorin’s concern for his dwarrow grew. “Where are we going? We need to go back to camp!” He tried to redirect. He couldn’t leave his One, but he needed to check on his company as well. 

”There’s no one at the camp,” Bilbo sighed. 

”What?! Why not?!” Thorin responded both baffled and frustrated. How could the hobbit know this?

”I don’t know.” Bilbo turned on him suddenly. “A certain _dwarf_ was distracting me,” he said through gritted teeth, poking Thorin’s chest with his stick.

”You weren’t complaining a few minutes ago.” Thorin rumbled, smirking victoriously at the blush it earned him. 

”I was--You were--We were just-“ Bilbo spluttered before giving up and shaking his head. “We don’t have time for this!” He spun around and continued. 

”Where are we going?” Thorin wondered as he followed behind his hobbit. 

”I told you. We're going to find your company.”

”You know where they are?”

”I know what direction they're in.”

”How?”

”You dwarrow aren’t exactly quiet, you know. Besides, it’s pretty safe to assume they're with whatever is making the earth rumble.”

Thorin glanced down at the ground beneath his feet. “What are you talking about? I don’t feel anything.”

”How could you with those metal buckets on your feet?”

”You can feel vibrations in the ground?” Thorin was impressed. It was similar to how dwarrow could hear stone, but the earth was soft and absorbent. Could the vibrations be that strong? “How--“

”I have very sensitive feet,” Bilbo cut him off.

”That’s how you knew we were being followed before.”

”Yes.”

”What else can you feel?”

Bilbo spun around suddenly and grabbed him by his coat, yanking hard. Thorin stumbled forward in his surprise, and Bilbo swung him using his own momentum until Thorin's back hit a tree. 

”You are very loud, do you know that?!” Bilbo whispered from where he’d pinned the dwarf.

”You may have mentioned it once or twice,” Thorin returned, distracted by the small assertive hobbit pinning him to a tree. 

”Well, we aren’t going to rescue anyone with you charging through the forest like a bloody troll! You’re almost as loud as they are!”

”Who?” Thorin wondered still distracted. 

”Them.” Bilbo gestured with his head past the tree. 

Thorin regained his focus and leaned over to peer around the tree. There in the distance he could spot something massive and green through the gaps in the trees. A few moments of watching and it finally clicked in his head. ”Trolls,” he breathed after straightening back up. "Real trolls."

”So I’ve noticed,” Bilbo retorted with no heat. He sounded more contemplative than anything and continued to pin Thorin against the tree with his proximity.

They heard a shout, and Thorin peered around again, catching sight of a noisy floppy sack In the troll’s hand. “It has the company!” he growled and tried to charge toward the troll camp only to be pulled back and shoved against the tree harder. 

”Are. You. Bloody. Mad?!” Bilbo whisper yelled. “You are one dwarf! What are you going to do against three trolls?!”

”Three?!” Thorin returned less quietly and got a small hobbit hand clamped over his mouth for his outburst. 

Bilbo cursed up a small storm about noisy, loud-mouthed dwarrow, and Thorin was rather impressed with his colorful range of insults. “Be. Quiet.” Bilbo ordered through gritted teeth. 

Thorin reached up and pried the hand off his mouth. “We can’t just let them be eaten!” he whispered. “We have to do something!”

”I already told you we were coming to rescue your bloody company! So shut your mouth and take orders for once, oh mighty king, and maybe we’ll be able to get everyone out of this alive!”

Thorin stared, his brows reaching for his hairline. He should be furious, at the very least indignant and offended by the irreverent tones and words being spat. He should, but he was too busy getting incredibly turned on by his One’s display of confidence and authority. His hobbit was certainly a little spitfire. "What do you suggest,” he asked subdued. “I may be just one dwarf, but you're just one hobbit.”

”No!” Bilbo corrected promptly. “ _I’m_ just a _burglar_ hobbit. And I’m going to burgle me some dwarves from these trolls.” He smirked, not intimidated at all by the challenge. 

”And how will you do that?” Thorin asked intrigued. 

”I guess you’ll just have to watch and find out,” Bilbo teased. “If you think you can help by not blundering through the forest like a mini troll, I could use the extra hands.”

”I’ll do my best.” Thorin huffed in amusement.

”Good.” Bilbo paused and listened for a moment before tugging Thorin away from the tree. “Stay close.” He began to creep closer to the troll camp. 

Thorin did his best, but he was no Nori. His boots seem to catch on anything and everything they possibly could. 

Bilbo ducked and froze when a stick broke under Thorin's boot with a loud snap. Thorin winced but otherwise imitated his hobbit’s inaction. After a few moments, Bilbo heaved a sigh of part relief and part frustration. He shuffled backward noiselessly until he was almost under the dwarf. He reached back and found Thorin’s arm. Trailing his hand down, he found Thorin's hand and gripped it in his own. 

“Follow my movements,” Bilbo whispered, tugging Thorin closer by his captured hand until he was nearly pressed against the hobbit’s back. “Be careful where you put your feet,” he cautioned once more before slowly guiding them forward in a crouch. 

Thorin tried very hard not to be distracted by the tingling under his skin where Bilbo’s skin met his or the tickling of silky curls under his nose. It made coordinating a bit difficult. Despite the distractions, he was able to match stride with the hobbit after only a few botched attempts out of sheer necessity as he could barely move without stepping on the hobbit otherwise. 

Finally, they accomplished a manageable rhythm and crept closer. Thorin made significantly less noise with the hobbit guiding his steps, and they sneaked forward until they reached a large dead log not far from the clearing the trolls were camped in. 

Bilbo released him and squatted down behind the log to listen. Thorin cautiously peered over, his now freed hand settling on Bilbo’s waist in their continued proximity. 

”Now what?” Thorin whispered. There were indeed three trolls sitting around a fire and massive cooking pot. The entire company, save them, were piled to the side in sacks, their armor and weapons stripped and set aside in a separate pile. Thorin still didn’t see how just two of them were going to get everyone else out of this. 

”How good’s your aim?” Bilbo wondered with a hum. 

”Regarding what?” 

”Ever used a slingshot?”

”A slingshot?” Thorin returned unimpressed. No offense to Ori, but most dwarrow didn’t even consider that a weapon. 

”How’s your throwing arm then?”

”Decent,” Thorin returned, peering over the log again. 

”I’m going to need you to cause a distraction for me . . . without getting caught.”

”Like what?”

”Anything that won’t draw attention to your location.” Bilbo grabbed his hand again and retreated them behind a large tree. With Thorin safely hidden, he shuffled around until he found a good sized rock. “Throw a rock. Spook the ponies. Whatever.” He handed it over. “Just don’t get caught.” He set his stick down by the tree. “Give me about two minutes to get into position, then throw it and hide immediately. I’ll meet you back here,” Bilbo ordered before taking off on soundless feet. 

Thorin watched him leave and marveled at how he could move so quickly and not even rustle a leaf. He waited another two minutes once Bilbo was out of sight just to be sure before he looked for an opening to make a distraction. The ponies should already be nervous because of the trolls. It would be easy to get a response out of them. 

He crept into position as quietly as possible and took aim. He threw the rock as hard as he could, and it smashed into the boulder that formed part of the pen the ponies were in. They spooked and reared with loud fearful whinnies, trying to kick down the fence.

”Oi! Ya ain’t goin’ no where! Cut tha’ out!” One of the trolls ambled over to scold them and make sure they didn’t get loose.

”Wha’s got inta them?” Another wondered. All three of them were turned towards the panicking ponies. Thorin did his part, he just hoped Bilbo would be okay. Hiding behind his tree, he listened for any sign that his hobbit had been discovered. The seconds ticked by agonizingly slowly as he waited for something to happen, and the trolls shortly returned to their spots around the fire. 

Just when he was about to risk creeping closer to check on things, a twig snapped in the forest. He turned just in time to see Bilbo twist around and hush one of the dwarrow behind him. After waiting a few seconds to ensure the way was still safe, they hurried over as fast as they could.

”You got them,” he said in mild awe. The hobbit had actually burgled, not one, but two dwarrow right from under the trolls’ noses. 

”Of course I did,” Bilbo huffed back. “What kind of burglar do you take me for?”

"I--“

”Unfortunately, that method isn't going to work for everyone. Trolls may have bad math skills, but they’re going to notice if their stack of dwarrow disappears. Which is why I grabbed you two,” Bilbo turned to Ori and Nori. 

”Tell me what ya need,” Nori returned determined. 

”Wh-What can I do?” Ori wondered insecurely. 

”You, Ori, are going to play a very important role.” Bilbo pulled the slingshot off his belt. “I know they took yours, so you’ll have to use mine. I manage okay at short range but my long distance aim is a bit . . iffy . . for obvious reasons. But I hear you have great aim.” He patted Ori on the arm. 

”I do, but, what’s a sling shot gonna do against them? I‘ve already tried.”

”You aren’t going to be shooting them.” Bilbo guided the dwarf so he could peer around the tree. “You're going to be aiming for the pot. Inside the pot, specifically.”

”What?”

Bilbo slipped a little glass bottle out of one of his pouches. “I need you to shoot a few bottles into their pot. That is your most important job. Once you’ve done that, you can help provide some distractions.” He handed over the slingshot. “I have three bottles. Very carefully remove the covering and shoot them each into the pot as you are able. There’s enough poison here to give even a troll, or say three trolls, a hard time. Be very careful not to get any on your skin.” He handed them over carefully. 

”What about me?” Nori asked.

” _You_ are a troublemaker.” Bilbo pointed. “I need you to cause some trouble.” He smirked.

Nori grinned wickedly. “Then let’s go cause some trouble.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Bilbo works his magic to free the company and faces off against three trolls. Thanks to their burglar, the dwarrow have the trolls on the run.


	19. Forest Fairies and Terrified Trolls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!😉

Thorin did his best to reign in the growing tendrils of jealousy that were spreading through his chest as he watched his One whispering conspiratorially with Nori. The thief nodded and whispered back occasionally amidst the hobbit’s instructions and animated gesturing. 

”Aye. Ya leave that to me,” Nori eventually agree with an delighted grin.

”Excellent. Do you have a dagger on you?”

”Aye. Always hide a spare.”

”Good. All right. Well, go do your thing, then,” Bilbo shooed him away. 

Nori disappeared into the trees, and Bilbo bounced over silently and grabbed Ori’s shoulder. The young dwarf startled where he had been peering around the tree at the trolls. “Sorry. Are you all set?” Bilbo asked softly. 

Ori nodded, the adrenaline making him edgy. “I-I found some stones to shoot to cause distractions if needed. I think I can get the bottles in the pot, but it’s going to be too obvious if they're watching.”

”Leave that to us.” Bilbo patted his shoulder. “All you need to worry about is getting those bottles in the pot.” Ori nodded, and Bilbo moved as if to leave. 

Thorin grabbed him by the arm before he could get away. “What about me?” He tugged his One closer. He felt a shiver pass through the hobbit. How he wished they were in a better situation to enjoy it.

“You need to help divert their attention away from the pot, so Ori can get those bottles in.” Bilbo pried Thorin's hand off one finger at a time. “Shake bushes. Throw rocks. Whatever it takes. But don’t get caught.” 

”And what will you be doing?”

”I’m going to go burgle a couple more helpers.”

”I thought you said you couldn’t burgle them all like that.”

”I can’t. Doesn’t mean I can't grab a few more. Trolls aren't the brightest.” Bilbo pulled away. “Don’t get caught," he ordered again before creeping away on soundless feet.

Thorin huffed as he watched him leave. He didn’t like not knowing the whole plan. He wasn’t used to not being in control. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t fulfill his role. The last thing he wanted to do was mess things up and get his One and company killed. 

Stooping, he grabbed a rock about the size of his fist and looked for an opening. 

_~Bilbo~_

Bilbo crept around until he was as close to the remaining piles of sacked dwarrow as he could get without being exposed. He needed a couple more actors, and he knew just who to grab. Crouching low, he waited for an opening, his dagger ready in his hand. 

There was a call on the other side of the clearing. It sounded like some kind of strange animal, but it was plenty loud to get the trolls' attention. Bilbo huffed a chuckle as the trolls wondered about the weird sound in confusion. Silly dwarrow. There was a bashing sound of rock on rock, and finally the trolls were moving. A plopping sound of something falling into water followed shortly.

Dashing out of the underbrush in a crouched run, Bilbo made himself as small as possible without limiting his speed too much. He didn’t even slow down before he jumped right on top of the pile of dwarrow. 

There were a few grunts, but they had learned the first time to keep quiet. He grabbed his first target and sliced the ropes in one swift movement before literally rolling the dwarf off the pile. 

”Keep your mouths shut and don’t do anything stupid. Got it?” he whispered at the others as he cut the ties on his second target and yanked him off the pile. 

There were some quiet affirmatives and grunts, and he launched himself back off the pile. Within only seconds from start to finish, he was chasing two newly freed princes into the woods. He grabbed their sacks and on the way, hiding them in the trees to keep the trolls from noticing the missing dwarrow. 

”Wow. You’re pretty good, Master Baggins,” Fili praised as they came to a stop a safe ways away to catch their breath. 

"Just call me Bilbo. No more of this master business. I grabbed you two because I have jobs for you.”

”What do you want us to do?” Kili asked excitedly. 

”All right. Pay attention.” Bilbo instructed them on exactly what he needed them to do as quickly as possible. He noted in the background another plop of something into the pot and the increasing annoyance of the trolls. “Got it?”

“You can count on us, Bilbo,” Fili confirmed. 

”Good. One of you stay here. Pick a tree. Keep yourself hidden. Remember what I said. Don’t escalate too quickly.”

”Right. I’ll stay here,” Fili offered before scrambling off to find a tree. 

”You come with me. We’ll find you a tree on the other side.” Bilbo grabbed Kili who fell in behind. 

They crept around until they passed where he had left Ori and Thorin. Kili waved a cheerful hello to his uncle as they passed, heading toward where the horses were being kept. Once there, Bilbo helped Kili pick a tree and waited until he was safely in its branches. 

An owl’s hoot sounded nearby, and the trolls were getting more and more agitated by all the strange goings-on. Bilbo took a deep breath. Everyone was in place. The plan was set, and he just heard the third bottle plop into the pot. He rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath. It was time to mess with some trolls.

_~Thorin~_

Thorin watched as the last bottle plopped into the pot, giving Ori a congratulatory pat on the back for a job well done. The poisons were in place. Who knows what Bilbo had planned for his nephews, but they seemed to be all set as well. Now he just wondered how they were supposed to get the trolls to sample the poisons when they looked about ready to rage through the forest. 

”I’s don’ like it! Someone’s messin’ with us, they is!” One of the trolls growled, peering around the clearing with an ugly scowl. 

”Oh, sorry about that. It was just me.” A voice that had become permanently engraved into Thorin's mind spoke in their midst. The trolls startled and spun toward the voice. 

”You?” one of them asked skeptically. “And what was ya doing, huh?”

”Oh, the usual. Taking care of the forest and such. It’s what we do, you know. Us forest fairies.” Thorin could barely see his hobbit wandering around in plain sight on the other side of the pot. He wasn’t even wearing his bloody armor!

”Forest fairy?” One of the trolls grunted. “Never heard of ‘em. Ya look more like a li’le ferret to me,” he growled. 

”Oh, I assure you we’re real. Have you ever seen eyes like this? I take care of the forest. The animals and trees know me.” Bilbo paused, and the trees started rustling around the clearing, numerous bird and animal calls pierced the air. “See?” 

The trolls glanced around nervously, growing more wary of the woods. 

”Ye expect us ta- Hey! Where’d ‘e go?!” The trolls had turned away for only a second, and the hobbit had disappeared. 

”Over here,” Bilbo called, popping up beside one of them. “What are you cooking? Is it good?”

The trolls stared in silence as their suspicions slowly turned to belief. “Dwarf stew,” One finally answered. 

”Really?! That sounds delicious!” Bilbo replied after disappearing again and popping up elsewhere. “I love dwarf stew!”

”You eat dwarfs, li’le fairy?” One of the trolls ventured almost meekly.

”Oh yeah. My favorite. Can’t say I get many these days though.” He leaned against the log one of the trolls was using as a seat. “My mum taught me this amazingly spell for making it taste just divine, you know. Her dwarf stew was the best,” he chatted easily. “Hey! I’ll tell you what. You share some of this stew with me and I’ll cast the spell for you! You won’t regret it!”

The trolls exchanged looks warily, and he took the opportunity to disappear, popping up next to a different one. Even from where Thorin was watching. It was hard to keep track of the hobbit. 

”I’s think yer playin’ us fer fools, is what I think,” the grumpy troll grumbled. 

”Shut up!” the cooking troll snapped. “Tell me about this spell.” He leaned down toward the hobbit. Thorin tensed as he watched his One do the same. 

”Well, why don’t I just show you.” Bilbo chanted something in a language Thorin didn't recognize and snapped his fingers loudly. “There you go. Now just give it a little stir and taste it. If you don’t like it, you don’t own me any stew.” More bird calls echoed through the woods. 

The suspicious troll narrowed his eyes, but the cook did as he was told, stirring the pot and taking a sip from his spoon. 

”Oh. That’s real good, that is!” he said, taking another sip. 

”Really? Let me try it!” The suspicious troll shoved his way closer and grabbed the spoon to help himself. “Hm. That is pre’y good.”

”Let me try!” the third nasally sounding troll insisted as he tried to pry in for his turn.

The trolls fought over the ladle as they each tried to get second and third tastes. “Think it still needs a bit more dwarf, though,” the cook said thoughtfully. “Go an grab me one!” He knocked the nasally troll on the head with his ladle. 

”A’rght, a’right.” Nasally whimpered and stomped over to pick one out. Bilbo bounded after him weightlessly in a peculiar, bouncy stride. It seemed to add to his fairy-like image. 

”How ‘bout this one?” The troll picked Bombur up by the legs, letting him dangle in the air as the fairy helped him inspect the dwarf. 

”Oh, definitely not. This one is clearly infected with worms. Look how bloated he is.” Bilbo pointed out, earning a few offended gasps from the dwarrow. 

”Eww!" The troll tossed Bombur back. “Well, what about this one?” He grabbed Bifur next, who grunted and cursed nearly unintelligibly. 

"Oh, no! Not that one. Listen to him. He must have some kind of fungus of the brain or something. You really want that to happen to you? I wouldn’t even touch him if I were you.”

The troll dropped him quick with a shudder. The animal calls started becoming louder and more frequent, but the troll didn’t seem to notice. “How about this one, then?” He picked up Gloin. 

”Oh yeah, that one’s perfect,” Bilbo agreed, a vengeful smirk on his lips. Gloin spluttered a string of curses and profanities as the troll carried him to the pot. The company shouted in alarm. 

”Good. Now hurry up and drop 'im in the pot! We ain’t got all night!” the cooking troll ordered. 

”Don’t do that!” Bilbo stopped them. “Look how hairy this one is! Do you want to be coughing up hair balls all day?! No! You’ve got to skin him first, of course!”

”Skin ‘im?"

”I’ve eaten plenty of dwarfs whole. Ain’t bothered me none,” Grumpy argued. 

”Yes, well, I wouldn’t expect any more from you, but your cook here would appreciate some finer dining, I should think,” Bilbo sassed. 

”Aye. That’s true.” The cook nodded, his ego sufficiently inflated. 

”You know's what I think?” Grumpy troll stomped forward and shoved a finger at the hobbit. “I think yer just messin’ with us.”

Bilbo shuffled back slightly from the aggressive display. 

”A li'le fairy magic to make the stew better?! How ‘bout a li'le fairy!” Grumpy swung down to grab the forest fairy, but Bilbo ducked away out of reach. 

”I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Bilbo warned firmly. “Just one word from me, and this whole forest will turn against you.”

"Ain't never herd of no fairy!" Grumpy snarled. “I still thinks yer messin’ with us, ya li’le ferret! Want the dwarfs all to yerself, ya do!”

Bilbo shuffled backward as the troll advanced, and Thorin struggled to stay in his place. He couldn’t just watch as they crushed his hobbit!

The troll stomped hard, making the ground shake. Bilbo stumbled onto his back. He hopped up right away, but the troll was there and scooped him up in one giant hand. He let out a strained cry when the troll squeezed. 

“What’s yer forest gonna do now, ya li’le ferret?” Grumpy sneered, his hot, rancid breath rolling over the hobbit in nauseating waves of stench. Bilbo let out a strained cough, and Thorin had had enough. 

_~Bilbo~_

”No!” Bilbo barely registered Thorin bursting out of the trees. “Put him down!”

He tried to breath through his mouth, but it wasn’t any better. Tasting the troll was even worse than smelling it, and it made his stomach twist and threaten to spew all over the disgusting troll. He wheezed another breath. If it weren’t for the adrenaline coursing through his veins, that blast of troll breath would have been an instant knock out. As it was, he was fighting to hang on. He couldn’t pass out yet. He wasn’t quite done. 

”Wha’s that? Another fairy?” Cooking troll wondered. Perfect. The poisons were working if they couldn’t even tell a dwarf from a hobbit anymore. He willed the bile down his throat and opened his mouth. He laughed. Not a light joyful laugh, but a dark sinister one. 

Grumpy peered at him in confusion. The trees were swaying and rustling violently. What had started as animal calls had evolved into loud hoots and hollers. The trolls gazes shifted around the clearing, staring at the forest with growing unease, even fear. The poisons were working his magic. 

”I warned you,” he wheezed out as strongly as he could manage with his limited lung space and the foul stench that made him want to stop breathing all together. “Not to touch me. Now my forest will rip the flesh from your bones, like you’ve done to so many others.” He opened his eyes. 

The effect was immediate. He didn’t know what it was about his eyes, but, when combined with hallucinogenic effects, they always seem to inspire visions of horror and monsters. 

”What?! Wha’ is tha’?!” Grumpy troll recoiled, staring in terror. 

”Pu’ it down!” The Cook ordered. Their combined fear growing. 

The loud hollers and hoots suddenly morphed into wild screaming, like some twisted beast was rampaging straight for them. The trees shook, the branches seemingly reaching out over the clearing, and the dwarrow at their feet emerged from their sacks with shouts and threats. 

Bilbo’s head rolled back limply. He was losing his grip on consciousness, but he still felt the tremble of fear that shook the troll's hand before Grumpy tossed him with a fearful yelp. Landing like a rag doll, Bilbo skidded through the forest underbrush. He spared a thought for the company. Had he done enough? It would have to be. He couldn’t think clearly anymore. The world faded, and he sank into darkness.

_~Thorin~_

Thorin charged at the troll crushing his One in his hand, but it barely seemed to notice him. Bilbo’s laughter had momentarily stalled Thorin's attack. He couldn’t believe his hobbit was literally laughing in a troll’s face. Wasn’t he hurt?! Wasn’t he scared?! But then everything happened at once. There were dwarrow in the trees shaking them and shouting. 

Bilbo’s words finally clued him into the plan. He knew the hobbit had hallucinogenic poisons. Everything, all this craziness was meant to mess with the trolls heads, give the company a chance of fighting back, help them make it until dawn. The sky was already brightening as the morning sun inched its way closer to the horizon. They were so close! But it would be for nothing if he lost his One in the process!

Thorin renewed his charged at the troll as it stared in horror at the hobbit in its hand. Bilbo had gone limp and still, and panic exploded in Thorin's chest. Was he too late?! The troll dodged his first blow. It looked absolutely terrified by whatever it was seeing. Suddenly, the rest of his dwarrow burst from their sacks and charged, shouting and screaming. The calls sounding over the clearing turned into the violent screeching of unimaginable beasts.

The troll finally tossed the hobbit away, but it only served to fuel Thorin's rage, and he charged again with an angry bellow. He hacked at its feet and legs as the trolls dodged and even tried to run away from their attackers, screaming in horror. The rest of the company quickly found their weapons and joined in the attack. 

It must have been a comical sight for anyone not involved. Three giant trolls running around in abject horror as a company of barely equipped dwarrow chased them around screaming and yelling, as if they were the man eating monsters and the trolls their victims. But in his rage, Thorin could not see any humor. They dared to touch his One, and he would have his revenge. 

For all their panicked retreating, the trolls stayed clear of the trees. Too terrified to enter the forest despite whatever terrors they perceived on their heels. 

Thorin paused and surveyed the clearing from the center of the chaotic scene. He had never experienced such absurdity in all his days. The pot had even knocked over, the logs of the fire were scatter from a troll blundering straight through it. Half naked dwarrow ran about screaming and yelling at fleeing trolls like miniature bullies. It was the most bizarre thing he had ever seen in his life. 

He spotted movement in the corner of his eye. It seemed out of place, so he turned and, there, standing atop the rock face that framed the backside of the clearing stood the wizard. He was just standing there, gaping, as perplexed and flabbergasted as any outsider should be at the scene. 

”Tharkun!” Thorin shouted over the cacophony of chaos. If the wizard was there, he should at least be doing something useful. Gandalf seemed to hear him, despite the competing noise and shook himself of his confusion and shock. In the next moment, a thundering boom echoed over the clearing. The trolls nearly fell to the ground in fright.

As it was, their terrified figures slowed to a stony halt as the sun's rays washed over them. The company cheered their victory, more dwarrow rushing out of the trees to join the celebration. They continued to throw taunting insults at their now motionless enemies as the high of battle and victory slowly faded. 

The princes ran into the clearing from either side, jumping and colliding in a celebratory tackle. “Did you see that? Did you bloody see that?!” Kili yelled. 

”We had those trolls running scared like little babies!” Fili jumped in.

”Giant troll babies!” Kili echoed. 

”Afraid of forest fairies! Of all things!” Fili added. 

”Did you see Bilbo, Uncle?!” Kili asked excitedly as they wrestled their way to him. 

”Mahal! That hobbit is a bloody boss!” Fili agreed. “He laughed in that trolls face like it was nothing!”

Thorin’s growing smirk instantly vanished, and he searched around the troll camp.

”Uncle? What’s wrong?” Fili asked, noting the anxious behavior. 

”Where is Bilbo?” Kili wondered, noticing the hobbit’s absence as well. 

”Bilbo!!” Thorin bellowed, but only silence answered him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: The search is on for a missing hobbit and a little helper comes to Thorin's aid. Bilbo might have rather stayed in a swoon.

**Author's Note:**

> This work is updated monthly. Check out my [tumblr](https://domesticgoddesswriter.tumblr.com) for my posting schedule, announcements, fic recs, recent activities, fan art and more!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Blind Bilbo Fanart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25254958) by [Amaias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amaias/pseuds/Amaias)




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